Cuckoo in the nest
by Avoncliffe
Summary: This is Harry and James's second case as lovers as well as partners in SI-10. Their intimate relationship is still a tightly held secret. A dead, unidentifiable body, a knight of the realm and one of London's crime barons take Dempsey and Makepeace on a dangerous journey. Thwarted every time they get close to an arrest, is there a cuckoo in the nest?
1. Chapter 1

**Cuckoo in the nest**

**Chapter 1.**

A full moon in a cloudless, star strewn sky, threw it's eerie light on the Rolls Royce Silver Spur, the deep lustre of multiple layers of black paintwork gleaming in the warm, summer night, as the car swung off the main road and into a narrow lane.

It glided along slowly, until it found in the hedgerows, what it's driver had been searching for - an open gate to a farmers field.

Turning in, the car parked out of sight behind the high hedge separating the field from the lane, the driver throwing his chauffeurs hat onto the passenger seat, before alighting from the car.

Having removed his jacket and gloves too, he then lifted the bootlid and dragged out a lifeless body, still tightly wrapped in a maroon carpet.

Heaving it over his shoulder, he carried it deep into a small wood that flanked the field, before dumping it unceremoniously on the ground.

Returning to the boot, he took out a spade and sauntered back to the body, whereupon he dug a hole to around four feet.

Throwing the spade on the ground, he wiped his brow, lifted the body once more, then rolled it into the hole, spending the next twenty minutes filling it in.

He completed his handiwork by throwing as much foliage over the disturbed earth as he could find.

Arriving back at the car, he put his jacket back on and refitted his gloves, but before climbing back into the drivers seat, he smoothed down, adjusted and straightened his mid-grey uniform.

Having placed the matching hat back on his head, he settled his gloved hands on the steering wheel and looked into the rear view mirror at his employer, seated on cream leather in the back of the limousine.

A curt nod instructed the chauffeur to start the car and it quietly exited the field, travelling up the lane to the main road, where it accelerated away noiselessly.

"James." called Harriet Makepeace, from her bathroom, whilst putting the finishing touches to her makeup in preparation for their evening out.

"Yo Harry." James Dempsey, her lover and partner in work, answered from the lounge, where he was busy pouring out the last two glasses of Crystal champagne into flutes, and as usual, was dressed, ready and waiting for her.

"Are we doing anything this weekend?"

"Hell, honey, why you askin' me? You're the social secretary."

Harry walked through to join him. He whistled.

"Wow! you look wonderful, princess." he said, taking her hand, kissing her on the cheek and handing her a glass of the exclusive and expensive ice cold sparkling wine.

"Thank you, darling." she replied, taking the proffered glass and looking him up and down. "You don't look half bad yourself. I might have to strip search you later."

"I guess I'd better have somethin' worth findin' then." he replied, echoing the twinkle in her eye.

He was dressed in classic evening wear - white tuxedo, white dress shirt with pleated bib at the front and black studded buttons.

Black onyx cufflinks, black trousers, black patent leather shoes, a bow tie and cummerbund in royal blue, completed his ensemble.

Harry was wearing a stunning ocean blue, full length, sleeveless evening gown by Gina Bacconi, with v neckline and diamond applique to the waistband, complimented by a diamond pendant and matching earrings.

Her feet nestled in black high heeled snakeskin shoes by Manolo Blahnik, whilst her left wrist was graced by a Cartier ladies watch in solid silver.

With her light blonde hair cut into a distinctive bob circling her face and her pale pink lipstick accentuating the heart shaped lips in her sensuous mouth, Dempsey's heart was doing gambols.

Simple but hugley effective, given that she was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen, the dress matched the fathomless colour of her eyes.

"Why the question about the weekend, princess?"

"Sunday is Daddy's seventieth birthday and, of course, it's the summer solstice too." she replied." So he's decided at the last minute to throw a garden party at Winfield Hall for friends and family and he specifically asked that we be there. He'd like it if we could drive up tomorrow evening and stay the weekend."

"Sounds great." said Dempsey."I've got a lot of time for your father, fascinatin' guy."

"He thinks the world of you, you know." she said, holding his hand tightly. "You remind him of one or two agents he controlled in the SOE during the war. He said your maverick attitude is what sets you apart from the rest and, in another time, you could have been a hugely effective spy. You've got a lot to thank him for."

"Yeah?" replied Dempsey, "like what?"

"It was Freddy who first opened my eyes to the man behind the detective." she said, her eyes soft and loving. "He could see you for the fellow you really are, not the brash, arrogant Yank but a sensitive, kind and loyal person. That's when the ice in my heart, that had frozen over in my marriage to Robert, began to melt."

"And, as they say, the rest is history." said Dempsey, stooping to kiss her enticing lips.

Lady Harriet (Harry) Makepeace, nee Winfield, is a high born heiress, whose father, Lord Frederick (Freddy) Winfield, hugely wealthy aristocratic owner of both Winfield Hall, one of Britains foremost stately homes, and a Belgravia mansion, is a retired, high ranking officer in the British Secret Service.

Apart from her father, none of the family or their friends know that Harry is, in fact, Detective Sergeant Makepeace, attached to an undercover and secret crime fighting Government department, SI-10, which was established three years previously and spans both MI5 and MI6.

Seconded to SI-10, not long after its inception, was Lieutenant James Dempsey, officially part of an experimental exchange programme with the NYPD but, in reality, sent to the UK because his life was in mortal danger, having exposed high level corruption within his own organisation.

Chief Superindent Gordon Spikings, the officer in charge, is no fan of Yanks, as he refers to them, so was not particularly pleased when Dempsey breezed in and announced his arrival.

Equally not enamoured was Harry, when Spikings decided to pair them up.

They were like chalk and cheese.

Her high end education and cut glass upbringing grated against his brash, "what you see is what you get" attitude and this, coupled with his maverick approach to the job and brazen arrogance, meant their first few months together were fraught to say the least.

But, as time progressed, Harry became more accustomed to Dempsey's ways, especially since his insight and intuition fused with hers, resulting in them saving each others lives on several occasions.

An explicit trust developed, a sixth sense that was unique to them and they realised that this had grown into a deep and lasting love of one for the other.

Actually admitting it to each other, however, was another thing altogether, but eventually their emotional floodgates opened and they became inseparable.

This inevitably led to a few problems, not least of which was keeping their love life a secret at SI-10, for fear that Spikings would view it as compromising their working partnership.

Equally, their first case as lovers involved a dangerous pyschopath sent from New York to assassinate them and this tested the dynamics of their relationship to its limit, since it had now changed beyond all recognition.

It brought into sharp focus, how they had to deal with danger when it threatened their lives now - the fact that they loved each other so much, making it infinitely more acute.

"Well tiger, you ready to go?" said Dempsey, drinking in how stunningly gorgeous she was. "'cos if we don't go now, I won't be responsible for my actions. And you know what long dresses do to me!"

Her blue eyes, which never ceased to captivate him, took on a mischievous look.

"Are you thinking what I think you are thinking?" she asked, in a deliberately provocative voice, moving into him very closely, putting her arms around his neck and looking up into his eyes.

"Could be." he replied, his face creasing into a smile as his hands slid seductively down her back to her buttocks and detecting material beneath the dress.

"They're silk." she teased, tingling at his touch and wanting nothing more than to rip his clothes off and take him back to bed.

"Well I ain't gonna say that's better than nothin'." he said, huskily, her exquisite Givenchy perfume making him go weak at the knees."'cos it ain't."

Harry's eyes held his in a steady gaze, the sexual chemistry sparking between them, speaking volumes.

She gathered herself together, silenting counting to ten.

"I may have to dance with an assortment of men this evening, so if you think I'm going to go naked under this dress, you can think again!" she said eventually, tapping the end of his nose, then kissing it for good measure.

He thought for a moment, then nodded.

"Good point angel." he said, the dawning of her explanation clearly visible on his features as it sunk in, making her burst into laughter.

"Yeah, good point." he repeated.

"Come on Valentino." she laughed, grabbing his hand. "let's go before a lack of resolve get's the better of us!"

They finished their champagne and, hand in hand, walked out of Harry's house to Dempsey's Mercedes 500SL.

"I've been meaning to ask you for ages." she said, settling into the passenger seat and buckling up. "How come you've still got this car?"

"O'Grady, my Chief back home, is still payin' for it." he said. "I guess he still feels guilty about havin' to send me here in the first place."

"Thank you, O'Grady." she said, glancing across at him, smiling, then adding swiftly."I don't mean about the car, I mean about you."

"Yeah, I know what you mean, angel." replied Dempsey, a wide grin on his face. "I know I can be dumb sometimes, but I ain't _that_ dumb."

He started the car, the evocative "Who's That Lady" by 'The Isley Brothers' sweeping out of the speakers, and headed for central London and the Grosvenor House Hotel on Park Lane, where a dinner dance was being held to raise money for UNICEF, the children's charity, and to which Harry had donated in the past.

They were seated at a large circular table for ten people, none of whom Harry had ever met, and certainly not known to Dempsey.

She was relieved he was next to her, she hated dinner parties and functions like this, where one was deliberately separated from one's partner.

To her left was an eminent surgeon and to Dempsey's right, the wife of the editor of a national daily newspaper.

Other guests were the surgeons wife, a well known footballer and his 'wag', and a distinguished looking man in his mid to late fifties, who couldn't take his eyes of Harry.

His partner was around mid to late twenties, clearly of African descent with large dark eyes, a full figure and glistening black skin.

Harry had a golden rule. She always insisted on dancing the first and last dance with her man, no matter what.

Quite frankly, all she wanted to do was dance with Dempsey the whole evening, especially the slow ones - she so loved the way he held her - so when the speeches were concluded and the MC announced that a section of floor had been cleared for dancing, she was quick to grab his hand and be the first to hit the floor, when the band started playing.

The first few numbers were fast and they had a ball swinging to the beat, but when the band slowed the tempo down and began playing "Summertime", she threw his arms around her waist, looped hers around his neck, nestled into him and closed her eyes, their bodies swaying in perfect unison to the classic song.

"Harry?" said Dempsey, after a while, quietly in her ear.

"Mmmmm?" she answered, lost in the music.

"You awake?"

She poked him gently in the ribs, knowing he was teasing.

"Listen honey." he said.

"What?" she said, dreamily.

"Who's that oldish guy with the black girl on his arm?" he asked. "He was sat opposite you at the table."

"Don't know." she answered, still in heaven. "I think he was Sir somebody hyphen Thorpe according to the table plan when I had a quick look before we sat down. Why?"

"My nose is twitchin'" he said. "There's somethin' about him I don't like."

She looked up at him, knowing through experience, that when Dempsey's nose started, it was best to take note.

"Are you sure you're not jealous?" she asked anyway, before snuggling back into him as they danced on. "I know it wasn't lost on you, as it wasn't on me, but he kept staring at me throughout dinner."

"No honey, 'course I ain't jealous!" he said, firmly. "I'm the guy takin' you home, an' I'm the guy sleeping with you tonight, so what have I to be jealous about."

"Yes I know darling, I was just teasing." she said giggling into his shirt. "I'm sure that when we sit down it won't be long before he asks me to dance, so I'll find out what I can, how's that?"

"Perfect." he said.

"I love you." she whispered in his ear.

"Yeah, I know," he replied, repaying her for her earlier teases, but earning another dig in the ribs for his trouble.

When the band upped the tempo once more, it was their cue to return to their table, Dempsey ordering more coffee for them both, plus a drambuie for Harry and a Napoleon brandy for him.

He took a cuban cigar out of his breast pocket and lit it, blowing a series of smoke rings into the air.

Dempsey looked over Harry's shoulder.

"Brace yourself, angel." he said, eyebrows raised. "Bandit Romeo at two o'clock."

She nearly spat her drink out at his description, finding it highly amusing, swallowing quickly and putting a forefinger to her lips to stifle a laugh.

Dempsey watched him approach the table.

He was about six foot tall, well built, with a tanned complexion, grey/green eyes and salt 'n pepper coloured wavy hair, that dissolved into silver at the sides, giving him a debonair appearance.

He exuded wealth.

Ignoring Dempsey completely, he reached the table and tapped Harry's shoulder.

"Excuse me Miss Makepeace." he said, his voice sounding like dark chocolate. "May I have this next dance?"

She glanced up at him, disliked him immediately, but smiled sweetly and said.

"Yes of course, thank you." and with her back to him as she stood up, pulled a face at Dempsey, mouthing 'Yuk' and walked to the dance floor, visibly shrinking from him as his hand went to her waist.

Dempsey wasn't going to take his eyes of them.

The band was playing an up tempo number, but it was clear all 'Bandit Romeo' wanted to do, was hold Harry close.

He could tell by her body language, all _she_ wanted to do was break away, but was clearly enduring it, so as to glean as much information about him as possible.

Once again, their sixth sense was playing as one, this guy was not as polite as his demeanor portrayed, there was something suspect about him.

The band finished their number and Dempsey could tell Harry was making her excuses to return to the table, but the guy wasn't letting her go, his arm still firmly around her waist.

'If you don't let her go in the next five seconds, you sonofabitch, I'm gonna put you on the goddam floor!' he thought.

He counted.

One : two: three: four: five!

Dempsey stood up, his hackles at full stretch and walked swiftly towards them.

'Bandit Romeo' must have seen him in the corner of his eye, because he suddenly released Harry, but before she'd been able to escape, he'd grabbed her hand, raised it to his lips and kissed it.

He then turned on his heel and walked quickly in the opposite direction.

Harry started towards Dempsey and rolled her eyes, pretended to wipe her hand on her dress, then linked her arm through his, whilst they headed for their table.

Sitting down she took a sip of her liqueur, then a longer drink of coffee and looked at Dempsey.

"Can we leave, darling." she asked. "that slimy reptile has really put a damper on things now. I'd much prefer to smooch with you somewhere else than here."

"Sure honey." he said, taking hold of her hand "How's about Stringfellows for a nightcap and slow shuffle."

They walked to the main entrance, Dempsey handing a ticket to the desk clerk, who looked at it, nodded and said.

"Your car will be brought round immediately, sir."

As they waited, a parked red Ferrari 328 GTS started up, the unmistakeable exhaust howl from it's 3.2 litre V8 engine echoing round the hotel walls.

The night was warm so it's roof panels had been removed and they watched, as it made it's way out of the small waiting bay.

Harry and Dempsey couldn't see the driver, but they spotted the passenger.

It was the black girl who had accompanied 'Bandit Romeo'.

They both noted the registration number, MBT 2.

The Mercedes arrived soon afterwards and Dempsey lowered the canvas hood, the balmy night air blowing through their hair which, for Harry at least, acted as an aphrodisiac to the turn off she'd experienced at the hands of 'Bandit Romeo'.

London always looked wonderful at night and this night was no different, the eclectic mix of amber street lights, contrasted with white traditional street lamps, whilst spotlighted buildings of all shapes, sizes and ages soared into the night sky, revellers sitting outside pubs, cafe's, bistro's and bars enjoying the warm summer ambience.

"James." she said.

"Yeah honey."

"We'll have just the one drink, shall we darling? I don't want to be too late getting home."

He glanced across at her, instantly recognising the look in her eye.

"You sure you wanna go to the club?"

"Yes, I'm sure." she said. "I want to dance with you again anyway. If it wasn't for that moron, we'd still be getting up close and personal on the dance floor."

"That's assumin' all the other guys in that place would've let you." noted Dempsey.

Harry glanced over at him, smiling.

"Hmm, all the more reason for leaving then."

"So what did you find out about that creep."

"Well, to use one of your expressions." she said. "What a slimeball."

"But, who is he?" asked Dempsey

"His name is Sir Marcus Battersby-Thorpe and he's Chairman and Managing Director of Thorplight Ltd. His factory is situated on an industrial estate in Redditch, Worcestershire, manufacturing and supplying industrial lighting - apparently they light road tunnels, airports, even garage forecourts. He's divorced, has three daughters from that marriage, lives alone in a gated mansion near a place called Lapworth, in Warwickshire and has an apartment in Mayfair."

"Wow! that was impressive princess." said Dempsey, reaching across and squeezing her hand. "how'd you get him to tell you so much. You didn't have a lot of time."

"He's your typical show-off. Loves talking about himself." she replied. "And he reminds me of a snake! When he talks, the end of his tongue seems to wriggle out of his mouth and wipes across his lips. Urghhh, it's repulsive."

"Yeah, well we'll get Chas onto it." suggested Dempsey. "He'll dig around a little deeper, huh? So, was that his girlfriend?"

"Good heavens no." she replied." I'd lay a pound to a penny she's from an escort agency. When the music stopped, he asked me to dinner and wouldn't take no for an answer. I was about to kick his shins when he must have seen you get up and start walking over."

"Yeah, I'd been watchin' for somethin' like that."

They pulled up outside Stringfellows, whereby Dempsey tossed the car keys to one of the clubs car park attendants.

"There you go, Gary, park it safe." Dempsey called out.

"Will do Jim." the young lad replied, cheerfully.

It was a Thursday night and the club was bouncing and busy, the atmosphere lively and exciting.

Miraculously they found an empty whilst Harry sat down, Dempsey went to the bar and ordered a double bourbon on the rocks for himself and a large dry Martini for Harry.

Joining her with the drinks, he sat down, leant over, took her face in his hands and kissed her on the lips.

"And what was that for?" she asked, adoring the spontaneity of this handsome man, the love of her life.

"Maybe 'cos you're the most beautiful lady in the room, princess?" he said, smiling, then changing the subject. "Say, how did he know your name, that Thorpe creep?"

"I presume he saw it on the table plan," she answered.

"Did he mention me or my name?"

"No, you didn't come up." said Harry. "Why?"

"I told you, my nose is twitchin'" he replied. "There's more to this guy than messin' with lights. Anyway, enough of that jerk. Let's go smooch."

They strolled onto the dance floor, Harry, once more, nestling into him as "Holding Back The Years" by Simply Red, flooded the room.

As they swayed and shimmied to the hypnotic rhythm, Harry totally absorbed in the song's tranquility, Dempsey glanced around the place, thinking back to the time he first saw her here.

She'd been drunk on champagne and had flirted outrageously with him.

His memories were brought to an abrupt halt, when he casually glanced over to the stairway that led up to the street entrance.

Walking down and reaching the base of the stairs were four people, three men and a woman.

Two of the men were clearly bodyguards, given their bulk and the way they brushed aside anyone who just happened to get in their way.

The girl was draped over the third man and Dempsey recognised him immediately.

"Jimmy Hofton." he said to himself.

He was a London crime baron and someone SI-10 had been trying to nail but everytime they'd got close, he'd somehow slipped the net.

He had his grubby hands into all areas of vice - prostitution, porn, protection rackets, gambling - you name it, Jimmy Hofton's sticky little fingers were all over it.

Harry was still in her own world as Dempsey watched the foursome make their way to a roped off, secluded corner of the room.

Two other people, a man and young girl, were seated there, the man standing up and greeting the group as they approached

Dempsey stopped dancing.

The man was none other than Sir Marcus Battersby-Thorpe.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2.**

"Why have we stopped dancing?" murmured Harry, her head still nuzzling him, her whole being relaxed and absorbed in the haunting lyrics of Mick Hucknall's smash hit.

Dempsey started swaying again and gently manoeuvred them into a full one hundred and eighty degree turn, so that now Harry would be facing the group in the corner.

She sighed.

"Harry, look over my right shoulder."

Sensing the seriousness in his voice and the caution it urged, she slowly lifted her head and looked into his eyes, then over his shoulder.

Dempsey felt her body stiffen at first, then go rigid as her eyes swept the group.

"Do you see who I see?" asked Dempsey.

"My God." she answered, quietly "Jimmy Hofton and that revolting Sir Marcus! How on earth do they know each other? And who is the young girl with him? She might be black but she's not the same one he left the 'Grosvenor' with."

" No, she ain't." agreed Dempsey. "And she looks pretty young to me."

Just then, Sir Marcus's squeeze from the dinner dance emerged from the ladies rest room. Harry spotted her.

"There she is, James." she said, gesturing with her head as to the direction in which to look. "Just coming out of the 'ladies.'

They watched as she joined the group, each one greeting her warmly, as if they'd known her all their lives.

"Somehow, I don't think she's just a hooker for the night, princess." remarked Dempsey.

"No." agreed Harry. "They're all a bit too friendly for that, aren't they. I certainly would have lost that pound if I'd have wagered it against your penny, wouldn't I. And how did the young girl get in here? There was no time to pick her up and anyway his car only has two seats. And yes, she _does _look very young, doesn't she."

"She woulda met 'em outside. That'd be my guess." suggested Dempsey, adding. "We woulda only have missed 'em by minutes. I think we should sit down and see who eventually leaves with who."

"Yes, but what if we're recognised?" asked Harry, continuing. "You know, I think we should get the car and wait outside. If that snake sees me in here, what's to stop him trying to drag me onto the dance floor again. Twice in one night is more than I could take!"

"He'd have to come through me this time angel." growled Dempsey.

"And those two gorillas with Hofton would get involved." retorted Harry. "The whole thing could get out of hand. No, staying is too risky. We should watch from the car."

"Okay, I guess you're right, angel." agreed Dempsey, somewhat reluctantly.

He'd have relished the excuse to deck the slob, but Harry's good sense told him the two bodyguards would have done him some serious damage. "Let's go then, nice an' easy does it though."

Without rushing, they calmly made their way to the exit, one eye on the group as they went, reaching the bottom of the stairs that led up to the street, confident they weren't noticed.

Having retrieved the Mercedes, Dempsey closing the canvas hood to allow them additional cover, they parked opposite the night club and settled in for what was likely to be a long wait.

It wasn't.

After around thirty-five minutes a metallic grey Daimler Vanden Plas limousine glided to a halt at the entrance to 'Stringfellows', the chauffeur leaping out and opening the rear passenger door, then disappearing into the building.

Seconds later, Jimmy Hofton and his entourage exited the club and climbed into the rear of the car, one of his heavies taking the front passenger seat, the other sticking with his boss.

"Trust that numpty Hofton to ride around London in the same type of wheels your Royal Family use." remarked Demspey, contemptuously.

"Mmm." agreed Harry, then nudging him. "Look who else is with them."

The young black girl was the last to emerge from the clubs entrance and, looking very reluctant, was pushed roughly into the rear of the car by the chauffeur.

Slamming the door shut, he quickly took up position in the drivers seat and seconds later, the limo accelerated away.

Harry and Dempsey exchanged glances, but before they could speak, a red Ferrari, registration number MBT 2, roared by.

Dempsey started the car and took up a tail from a discreet distance.

It soon became clear that Sir Marcus was following the Daimler and the two cars, plus the Mercedes some way back, finally swung onto The Bishops Avenue, Hampstead, one of London's most exclusive addresses, eventually coming to a halt in front of a large set of wrought iron gates, fronting an impressive looking mansion.

Stopping the car, Harry and Dempsey watched as the gates shuddered slightly before swinging slowly open, the two cars disappearing through them once the gap was wide enough.

Continuing, Dempsey drove slowly past the house, Harry glancing in as the gates began to close and noticing the young black girl being manhandled through the porticoed front door.

"She's very heavily made up you know. I dread to think what that poor girl is going to be forced into doing." she said, a feeling of helplessness enveloping her.

"I know, princess, but there ain't nothin' we can do right now, is there?" comforted Dempsey, looking across at her and noticing the sadness in her eyes as she returned his gaze. "But tomorrow we'll get onto it and see what we and the team can come up with."

"Take me home, please darling." she said, remaining silent for the rest of the journey.

Once undressed and lying together in bed, Dempsey with his arm around her stroking her hair, her head resting on his shoulder, the warmth and closeness of his body triggered the familiar arousal in her.

She'd only had a handful of lovers in her life, including a husband and, in the past, if she'd gone to bed feeling down in any way, she would have just rolled over and gone to sleep, making love being the very last thing on her mind.

But with Dempsey it was different, unique.

He somehow possessed the invisible power to relax her, make her feel totally safe, at ease and just by lying next to him, a sexual spark ignited in her, the need for physical release beginning to overpower her.

She moved into him, caressing him with her body, entwining her legs with his whilst lifting her head to his lips, her fingers beginning the journey that took him into ecstatic heaven.

She relaxed completely and joined him there.

The next morning they were up early and sat opposite each other in the SI-10 office by eight o'clock, freshly made coffee steaming away in polystyrene cups on their desks.

Minutes later Chief Superintendent Spikings marched in.

"And why do I have the pleasure of you two at this early hour?" he said, in his usual direct, straight to the point, manner.

"We may be onto something Chief." answered Dempsey. "It involves that pimp Jimmy Hofton and a guy called Sir Marcus Battersby-Thorpe. Ever heard of _him_?"

"I have yes. You'd better come into my office and bring me up to speed." confirmed Spikings, then looking at Harry. "A nice cup of coffee would go down well too, thank you, Sergeant."

"Yes sir, of course sir." replied Harry, then muttering quietly under her breath. "And two bags bloody full sir."

"I didn't quite catch what you said, Makepeace." he shouted as walked into his office.

"What? Oh nothing sir, just talking to myself." answered Harry, glaring at Dempsey's amused smirk on his face.

Before Harry got into deeper water with their irascible boss, Dempsey began relaying the whole story of the previous night from the dinner dance to 'Stringfellows'.

"I must be paying you two far too much." scowled Spikings. "Swanning around at posh dinner dances in Park Lane hotels and fancy nightclubs in Covent Garden!"

'God forbid' thought Harry, 'the formidable Mrs Spikings must have really sent him out this morning with a large flea in his ear!'

"The thing is Chief." continued Dempsey, wanting to get the discussion back on track. "There was this very young looking negro girl mixed in with them all. Now normally I guess we wouldn't have taken much notice, seein' as Hofton's heavily into vice. But she clearly didn't wanna be there, number one. And two, why would this Sir Marcus creep be rubbin' shoulders with the likes of Jimmy Hofton?"

"I see where you're coming from Lieutenant." answered Spikings. "I have met Sir Marcus Battersby-Thorpe. Didn't much care for him I must admit, bit of an arrogant so and so. He is quite friendly with our Commissioner, unfortunately."

Harry came in at that point, carrying his coffee and placed it in front of him on his desk.

"What do you think, Sergeant?"

"I'm with Dempsey on this, sir." she replied. "First of all I had an unpleasant close encounter with Sir Marcus at the dinner dance, but more importantly the young black girl in 'Stringfellows' looked very young. It was from a distance, but to me she looked heavily made up and that could mask her true age."

"Which was?" asked Spikings.

"I think she was underage - fourteen, perhaps fifteen?"

"And what were you two doing together at a private fund raising dinner dance anyway?" asked Spikings, watching her closely.

"I'd been invited and, as it happened, didn't have anyone to accompany me, sir. So I asked Dempsey and he said yes."

"Mmmm. " replied Spikings. " I'll bet he did!"

"Chief." said Dempsey, wanting to steer him away quickly from the thread he seemed insistent upon following. "We'd like your okay to investigate this further. As I said, I think we could have stumbled into something here, and we both want to get to the bottom of it. The Tortini affair's all wrapped up from last month and we ain't workin' on nothin' else just now."

Harry was nodding her agreement as Spikings looked from one to the other of them.

"And sir." continued Harry. "I'm really worried about that young girl. Would it be an idea if the Vice squad made a random visit to Jimmy Hofton's house to see if they can find her? I mean they don't need an excuse to raid him, do they, seeing as he's into prostitution, ecetera. And so long as they have a search warrant he can't refuse them."

"Alright." agreed Spikings. "I'll have a word with my opposite number on Vice. We're old chums, having joined the Force together. And get Chas on digging up what he can on Sir Marcus and stay alert. This weekend could throw something up so keep in touch with each other. I'm sure you won't find that problematical."

"Er no, sir." said Harry. "Although we will actually be together this weekend too, sir."

"Oh? why is that Sergeant?"

"My father is seventy on Sunday and he's throwing a garden party. He asked if Dempsey would like to go, so I asked him, he said ok, so we're going together."

Spikings raised one eyebrow.

"Purely platonic, sir." she lied.

At that point Chas arrived and, using him as an excuse, they both beat a hasty retreat before Spikings could ask anymore searching questions concerning their relationship.

Chas couldn't come up with much more information on Sir Marcus that Harry hadn't already gleaned from him during their dance.

He was fifty-six years old, educated at Harrow then Oxford University, reading business studies and economics where he attained a 2:1 degree and had taken over the family business ten years previously following the sudden death of his father.

He was third generation, his grandfather having launched the business at the turn of the century. According to Companies House, the business had never made a loss, was cash rich and expanding into Europe.

The Vice squad reacted pretty quickly to Spikings request and paid a visit to Jimmy Hofton's mansion that afternoon.

Three police cars and a blue Transit van, in total twelve police officers, gained access to the driveway after Hofton had been forced to let them in, when the search warrant had been waved at him via the CCTV cameras covering his property.

Superintendent Barney Johnson, Spikings old mate, led his team into the house,

"What the hell is the meanin' of this, copper?" said Hofton, his East End London accent pronounced. "What you doin' raidin' my gaff?"

"We have reason to believe there may be an underage girl here, Jimmy." said Johnson. "And you know the penalty for sex with a minor, don't you."

"I dunno what you're talkin' abaht, Guv'nor. There ain't no underage gel 'ere."

Despite a thorough search lasting two hours, no girl was found.

It had been a long shot that had failed.

Little did they know she'd been spirited away in the early hours of the morning, drugged into unconsciousness, having been consistently raped and brutalised by Hofton and his friends for three hours.

It was the final frustration for Harry and Dempsey as their day had proved equally fruitless and they made their way home to pack for the weekend, feeling frustrated and annoyed.

"Goddam it Harry!" said Dempsey when eventually on their way to Winfield Hall. "My nose never let's me down. I _know _there's somethin' goin' on!"

"Yes, I know darling." said Harry, reaching over with her right hand and laying it on his left thigh. "I'm as fed up as you are, but let's just draw a line under it for now. There's nothing we can do until Monday. This is Daddy's birthday celebration and he won't want two miseries with him, will he?"

"No, you're right angel." he replied, holding her right hand in his left. "I guess we just recharge our batteries this weekend, enjoy it as much as we can and start afresh next week, huh?"

"Hmmm." she said, her voice deliberately low and stimulating. "And I know exactly how to charge _your _battery up!"

"You sure do, honey." he replied, laughing. "Oh, you sure do!"

They eventually swept through the gates that led up to Harry's ancestral home, Harry leaning across and blasting the horn a couple of times as they drew up at the front of the house.

Her father, Freddy, appeared almost immediately.

"Harry my darling." he said, hugging her closely and kissing her cheek. "How wonderful you could both make it. And James, so very good to see you again."

He stretched out his arm and shook Dempsey's hand warmly, his grip still firm.

"Come in, come in, the both of you." he said, ushering them through the front door. "I've got a nice bottle of Krug chilling, just ready for drinking."

His butler, Abbott, took care of their cases and the three of them walked into Freddy's study, Harry sinking into a large, comfortable leather armchair, Dempsey sitting on the arm next to her.

She searched for his hand and held it.

This wasn't lost on Freddy, who said, with twinkling blue eyes. "Your room is ready darling."

"And I suppose Abbott will show James where he is sleeping?" asked Harry.

"Oh, I think we can stop the pretence, Harry. I'm sure James will be more than comfortable in your room."

There was a momentary silence, then all three burst out laughing, Harry jumping up and hugging her beloved father.

He served the champagne and they sipped it, Freddy bringing them up to speed as to who was coming on Sunday for his birthday party.

"Your Aunt Alice is coming up tomorrow actually."

"Oh, really?" said Harry. "And who has she in tow this time?"

"I don't actually know." replied Freddy. "Her last relationship went to nothing and I believe she's been going to these special dinners, where like minded single people are invited, all similar in social standing, looking for romance or friendship, you know the thing."

They both nodded in agreement with him.

"Aunt Alice is Daddy's step sister, James." explained Harry. "She lost her husband, Uncle Rupert, six years ago to cancer and she hasn't really found happiness with anyone else, although it hasn't been for the want of trying!"

"No." agreed Freddy. "I just hope she doesn't get too desperate."

"If you'll excuse me." said Harry, changing the subject. "I'm going to leave the two most important men in my life and go and unpack."

She kissed Dempsey, then her father and disappeared out of the door.

"Well James." said Freddy, offering a top up of champagne. "It seems my daughter and yourself are very much a couple."

Dempsey accepted the wine, thanked him and nodded.

"Yes, sir, we are." he replied. " I hope you have no objection."

"Good lord my boy, absolutely not!" he said, decisively. "I don't think I've ever seen her looking so happy and fulfilled and relaxed around someone. She was always a very reserved girl, quite deep, but that scoundrel Robert Makepeace sent her so far into her shell I never thought she'd ever emerge from it."

"Yeah." said Dempsey, recalling his first few encounters with her. "I know what you mean."

"I know, James, that with you, my daughter is in the safest possible hands and I couldn't be happier for you both."

"Well, thanks sir, that means a lot." replied Dempsey. "It took a little while but, I guess, in the beginning, we were building a foundation without knowing it. Then things just took their course. I love her with my very soul."

"Wonderful." he said. "The course of true love never runs smoothly but finds a way through in the end, if its genuine. And by the way, none of this 'sir' stuff anymore. I'm Freddy."

"I'll try to remember, sir - I mean Freddy."

They both laughed, at ease with each other more than ever before. If an elephant had ever been in the room, it had now been slain.

"Does Chief Superintendent Spikings know about you and Harry, by the way?"

"I think he suspects something but he has no proof and can't put a finger on it." replied Dempsey. "Harry and I are gonna keep it that way for as long as possible. As far as he's concerned we care for each other like sister and brother."

"Yes, very wise." said Freddy. "And very clever!"

Their conversation was interrupted by Harry re-appearing.

"Hello you two." she said, sitting back down in the armchair again, automatically searching for Dempsey's hand once more. "Any wine left?"

Freddy poured her a refill which she sipped slowly.

"Mmmm, delicious. What have you two been talking about?"

"You actually." said her father."Your ears should have been red hot!"

"Ooh! that bad?" she said, joining in with the resultant laughter.

"No. quite the opposite, darling." said Freddy. "I have told James how very happy I am that you two have found each other."

Harry gripped Dempsey's hand.

"I love this man with all my heart, Daddy." she said.

"Yes I know and it shows. Just be careful around your colleagues and especially Mr Spikings!"

Freddy was tuned in to the pair of them and the rest of the evening was lively and fun.

After a delicious dinner, a substantial salad with choice of several different meats, they retired to the terrace, where a few bottles of Chardonnay and Reisling white wines together with Burgundy and Bordeaux reds, were on offer.

It was another balmy night and Harry, completely relaxed, fell victim to a glass or two too many and fell asleep where she sat. Held up by Dempsey, she giggled and sang her way to the bedroom and insisted he get in with her because she felt sexy.

She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Dempsey wasn't much better.

He returned to join Freddy on the terrace and spent the next hour or so listening to his stories of the British Secret Service after the war, puffing on some very expensive Cuban cigars and getting steadily more drunk on a mixture of vintage port, followed by vintage brandy, followed by more vintage port.

He finally staggered up to bed, constantly shushing the various suits of armour along the way and collapsed, fully clothed on the bed next to a soundly sleeping Harry.

She was the first to wake up the next morning, groaning and holding her head the minute she moved it.

Dempsey was still flat on his back next to her, much as he was when he originally hit the mattress, although now, he was clutching a pillow tightly to his chest.

She turned to look at him, her head banging and laughed at the comical sight next to her, her head hurting even more with the effort.

She began nudging him gently, until he finally stirred and opened his eyes, looking around, totally unsure of where he actually was.

Harry managed to raise herself onto an elbow and looked down into his bloodshot eyes.

"What a sight for sore peepers you are!" she said, softly, grinning unapologetically.

"Aw, don't shout, angel." he replied, gradually focussing on her and the rest of the room.

They spent the next hour slowly coming round and, once showered and dressed, felt much better.

By this time, it was approaching eleven o'clock.

"I think a hearty breakfast will sort us both out." she announced."What do you think?"

"Had you said it an hour ago, I'd have buried you in the bed." he replied." But I guess I could eat somethin' now."

"Buried me in the bed, would you." she giggled. "That sounds rather fun."

The sound of crunching gravel took them both to the window, and, not wishing to be seen appearing rude and nosey, they each stood behind a drawn curtain and peeked out over the front of the house.

A black Rolls Royce drew up and stopped.

The drivers door opened and a liveried chauffeur in a mid grey uniform stepped out and opened the rear door.

First to alight was a woman.

"Oh." said Harry. "It's Aunt Alice. Gosh, she's doing okay arriving in a Rolls, isn't she."

"Yeah, I guess so, princess." agreed Dempsey.

Suddenly Harry froze.

Dempsey flexed his fists.

They'd both seen the registration number.

MBT 1.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3.**

Sure enough the next person to step out onto the driveway was Sir Marcus Battersby-Thorpe.

Harry glanced across at Dempsey, shaking her head in disbelief, momentarily speechless, but her mind was fully active.

"That guy has a habit of turning up like a bad penny." growled Dempsey.

"James, I think we should turn this to our advantage." she said, finally. "This is a golden opportunity to try and find out what makes that man tick. And, who knows, we might get more of an insight as to why he's involved with Jimmy Hofton."

"Okay, Harry, I get where you're coming from." replied Dempsey. "Not sure where you think you can go with it."

"What do you mean?" she asked, frowning and a little irritated.

"Hey, princess." said Dempsey, noting her mood. "Let's start singin' off the same hymn sheet, huh? How're you gonna get more info outta this guy? You know as well as I do, he's gonna be all over you like a rash and the last thing he's gonna do, is tell you that one of his pals is a notorious gangster, let alone admitting any involvement with underage girls."

She knew he was right, but pushed her idea further anyway.

"I can use my charm on him, can't I?" she said, tongue in cheek.

"Come on honey!" said Dempsey, "You hate this guy an' you know he's gonna be hittin' on you to have dinner with him at every opportunity. It's gonna take all your charm to fend him off, not get him to open up to you! An' I can control my temper just so far!"

He paused.

"An' another thing. Outta respect for your father, the last thing I wanna do here, is punch the guy's lights out!"

She sidled up to him, head bowed slightly, her eyes looking up at his, as she took his hand in hers.

"I'm sorry darling." she said, sheepishly. "Of course, you're right. I was in Sergeant Makepeace mode, rather than wearing my Lady Harriet Winfield hat."

"Yeah honey, you were." he replied. "I think, this weekend, less is more. Let's just stay cool, watch and listen. But, if there's an opportunity to poke his ass with a stick, we'll do it! Ok?"

"Er, that's rather contradictory of you." she said. "But I think you're right. If an opportunity presents itself we'd be foolish to ignore it."

"Exactly."

Still holding his one hand, she took his other one, forcing them both round his back and stood up close to him, lifting her head sideways slightly, her mouth open a little, her lips waiting for his.

He needed no encouragement and kissed her, the electricity sparking immediately and sending tingles through their bodies, their heart rate beginning to race.

Suddenly there came a sharp wrap on the door, shattering the moment.

"Harry darling." said her father. "May I come in?"

"Yes Daddy, of course." she replied, quickly fanning her flushed face with her hand.

Freddy's head appeared.

"Good morning both." he said, his eyes twinkling, mischievously. "Not feeling too bad this morning, I trust.?"

"Better now, yes." answered Harry, blowing air up to her face from her bottom lip.

"Ah, good." continued her father, then looking behind him and lowering his voice. "Your Aunt Alice is here with her new beau, not so sure about this one, I must say. Will you be joining us? It's another beautiful day, so we'll be out on the terrace."

"Yes Freddy, we'll be there in just a mo." confirmed Harry.

Her father nodded, then closed the door and left.

"Now listen honey." said Dempsey. "I'm gonna be watchin' that creep like a hawk and if he gets too friendly with you, I'm gonna take him to one side and tell him his fortune."

"It'll be interesting to see his reaction when we walk in, don't you think?" said Harry. "I expect we're the very last people he expected to see here. He's going to be caught completely unawares!"

How wrong could she be.

When they both stepped out onto the terrace, Sir Marcus's reaction, when he turned to look at them, was one of expectation.

Harry's arm was linked through Dempsey's and she nudged him gently in the ribs in recognition of her surprise.

Dempsey cleared his throat, followed by a low 'mmmm' in answer.

"Harriet!" squealed Aunt Alice, as she appeared swiftly at her side."How lovely to see you darling. It must be two years now. And who's this handsome hunk? Do introduce me, darling."

"Hello Aunt Alice." replied Harry. "This is my good friend James Dempsey."

"Good friend you say." answered Aunt Alice, looking him up and down, then speaking in lowered tones, but still loud enough for all to hear. "I'd hold on to this one, darling. He's _gorgeous_!"

She held out her hand which Dempsey shook, saying." Pleased to meet you Ma'am"

"An American!" said Alice. "I love your country, James. Harriet, he's a dish!"

Harry glanced at Dempsey, covering her mouth with two fingers to stifle a giggle at his blushing face.

"Where are you from in America, James?"

"New York, Ma'am. So good they named it twice." answered Dempsey, smiling.

"Ah yes, the Big Apple." she replied, returning his smile. "I've had many an enjoyable time in that city. Are you here on holiday?"

"No Ma'am, London's my home now."

"Oh, here permanently!" she said. "How exciting for you. Harriet you've struck gold, darling. We must meet for lunch some time and discuss!"

Freddy rescued them.

"What would you like to drink, Harry? James?" he asked, grinning "Hair of the dog?"

"Daddy you're a real tease." said Harry, punching him lightly on his arm. "I'll just start with some fresh orange juice thank you."

"Orange juice for you." repeated Freddy, as Abbott poured a glassful for her. "And James?"

"Er, yeah, same here I think, thanks."

Freddy chuckled again. "Now, let me introduce you to Sir Marcus Battersby-Thorpe, Alices 's escort."

"Oh yes, "said Alice. "You must meet Marcus. He's a dear."

Sir Marcus had been watching and listening to the interplay between them all, but his eyes had been transfixed on Harry throughout.

As they approached him, the tip of his tongue suddenly slid out of his mouth, running across his lips.

Harry shuddered.

Freddy handled the introductions.

"Sir Marcus, this is my daughter Harriet and her friend James Dempsey. By the way, where is your driver? Would he like a drink?"

"No he wouldn't." he answered flatly, before taking Harry's hand, raising it to his lips and kissing it, his eyes never having left hers as he did so.

"The pleasure is all mine." he leered, glancing swiftly at Dempsey and holding out his hand.

Dempsey gripped it hard and squeezed, amused at the wince it caused.

'For a big mother, you got a handshake like a wet haddock!' he thought, his dislike for this man, gathering pace.

"Well, well Sir Marcus." said Harry, pulling her hand away quickly. "A small world, isn't it?"

"You know each other?" asked Freddy, raising an eyebrow.

"Er n..." started Sir Marcus, looking quickly at Alice.

"Yes." said Harry, noticing his discomfort, sharpening the metaphorical stick they'd talked about earlier and prodding him with it. "We met only last Thursday night Daddy. Sir Marcus was at a fund raising dinner dance for UNICEF at 'The Grosvenor Hotel'."

The tension now wasn't lost on Freddy. As an experienced officer in espionage, his instinct was still as sharp as a tack.

"Yeah." said Dempsey, taking the stick from Harry, and continuing to poke him with it. "We saw you again later at 'Stringfellows', didn't we, Harry."

"Yes, we did James." she answered, the stick back with her. "Interesting company you keep, Sir Marcus. Oh and by the way, you knew my name when you asked me to dance, yet you said nothing about my family. Why?"

"I...I didn't know who you were." he said, the tip of his tongue regularly wiping across his lips. He was clearly rattled and constantly glancing surreptitiously at Alice, who was now taking great interest in the conversation. "I just saw your name on the table plan." he argued.

"Is that right. So in that case, I would have thought you'd have been astonished to see me here." continued Harry, the stick now firmly planted in his backside. "Yet you showed hardly any recognition. It was as if you _expected_ me to be here."

"N..No not all." he said. "I..."

He was cut short by Alice.

"Marcus!" she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him away. "A word!"

They disappeared into the house,

"What was all that about Harry?" asked Freddy.

"Shh, Daddy, We'll tell you later." she whispered, winking at him.

"Oh, alright." answered Freddy, intrigued. He loved a bit of excitement.

Raised voices could now be heard, Alice's shrill tones clearly indicating she was very angry and upset, followed by the gruff voice of Sir Marcus.

Suddenly she appeared on the terrace, tears coursing down her face.

"Abbott!" she sobbed."Please see to Sir Marcus, he's leaving!"

"Yes Madam." replied Abbott, who scurried away quickly.

Freddy and Harry went to her side, comforting her, Dempsey hopping about on both feet, embarrassed somewhat, unsure what to do.

Harry left her father to it and joined Dempsey, amused by the look on his face.

"Are you nervous, darling?" she asked.

"Yeah damn right, princess." he whispered "I never know quite what to do when a perfect stranger starts bawlin' their eyes out in front of me."

"Come and sit down." she suggested, taking his hand and walking to a comfortable set of wrought iron garden furniture, a huge umbrella shading them from the sun.

"Well, what do you make of that!" she asked. "I couldn't resist getting our stick out."

"Yeah, didn't expect that so soon." he said. "But it definitely proves he knows a lot more than he's lettin' on. The question is, who's feedin' him information, 'cos he _knew _you'd be here, no matter how hard he tried to deny it."

"The only person who knew we were here this weekend is Spikings." said Harry. "And why would he tell Sir Marcus?"

"Well he wouldn't angel." said Dempsey. "End of. But it's leaked out somewhere. Perhaps your father's mentioned it to a guest."

Alice and Freddy came to join them, sitting down on the two available chairs.

"I'm sorry about that, darlings." said Alice, recovered now and back to her normal self. "That devious hound told me he was abroad on business all last week, and yet now I find he's been nothing of the sort."

"I think you are well rid of him Alice, my dear," said Freddy. "I took an immediate dislike to the man the second you introduced me to him."

"Me too." murmured Harry, out of earshot, but heard by Dempsey.

As soon as Sir Marcus was seated in the back of the Rolls, he picked up his car telephone and dialled a number.

"Hello." came a voice the other end.

"Yes, it's me." said Sir Marcus,

"Why the hell are you ringing me here!" whispered the voice, angrily. "You know it's difficult to talk. You'd better be quick, I'm on my own right now, but not for long!"

"Then just listen." replied Sir Marcus. "Did you know Harriet and that Dempsey fellow were in Stringfellows on Thursday night!? They saw _everything. _They know somethings going on."

"No I didn't know they'd be there, just like I didn't know they'd be at the fund raiser. It was only when you were banging on about a tasty blonde by the name of Makepeacethat I told you who she was. I told you to steer clear of her, she's ice cold anyway, you'd never have got anywhere. So what's happened now?"

"But I love her. And I blew it this weekend at her fathers place." he said.

"What do you mean you blew it! And what the hell do you mean, you _love_ her!"

"I was so taken aback at seeing her again, I didn't show any surprise. I should have been visually amazed at the coincidence. I just fell instantly in love with her the moment I saw her at the dinner dance."

"You bloody fool! If you kept your brain in your head for once instead of your pants, you wouldn't be in this mess. Taking up with that Alice woman was a big mistake, too. I told you it was a bad idea! Otherwise you wouldn't have been anywhere near Makepeace or Dempsey this weekend!"

"But I just had to see her again. And when I found out she was related to Alice, I couldn't help myself."

"Yeah, well now they're going to be all over you if you're not careful. Did you know Jimmy's place was raided by the Vice squad yesterday afternoon?"

"What!?"

"Yeah, looking for an underage female. So who do you think put them up to it eh?"

"You'd better start earning that money we pay you."

"Yeah and you'd better forget being _in love _with Harriet Makepeace. You're on a hiding to nothing, mate. Don't fret, I'll try and cover you on the oter thing. Now piss off!"

When Alice had gone to freshen up and powder her nose, Freddy turned to Harry.

"I know we have a pact that I don't discuss your business with you Harry, darling, but this is involving my sister, so it's becoming a little personal."

"It doesn't involve Aunt Alice directly, Freddy, but it may involve one of your guests."

"Alright." he said. "Do you want to explain?"

Harry looked at Dempsey who nodded.

She related the events from the time they sat down at the table in the 'Grosvenor' to what transpired later at 'Stringfellows' and then tailing the cars to Jimmy Hofton's house.

"I see." said Freddy. "and Spikings is the only person who knows you're here for the weekend."

"Yeah." answered Dempsey. "An' we're gonna have to try and find out if any of your guests tomorrow know Sir Marcus, 'cos that way we'll know how he found out we'd be here."

"Of course!" said Harry, suddenly. "It's staring us in the face. Daddy, did Aunt Alice know we'd be here?"

"Quite possibly my dear." he replied. "Alice was one of the first to be invited a couple of weeks ago. And one of the first things she asked me was whether you'd be coming. I told her it was highly likely."

"Okay, so there you have it." said Harry.

"Yeah. That's it. And listen princess, it's simple." said Dempsey. "The reason he was bein' cagey about meetin' you and I, was because he didn't want Alice to know where he was last Thursday. He'd told her he was away on business."

"Yes." said Harry. "We've been so wrapped up with conspiracy theories we've missed the absolute obvious."

"Well then you two." said Freddy. "At least that's cleared it up. But I must make one observation. I was watching him quite closely before I introduced him and he never took his eyes off you, Harry. If I'm not mistaken he's besotted with you."

"Yeah, you're right Freddy." said Dempsey. "He's definitely got the hots for you, honey."

Her face was a picture - a mix of utter horror and complete distaste.

The two men looked at each other, then back at Harry and then at each other again. Then they split their sides laughing.

"It's not funny." said Harry, unamused.

"Hey princess." said Dempsey, smiling and hugging her close to him. "I've got your back, you know that."

"Yes," she said, a smile beginning to crease her lips. "My guardian angel."

"Now you two must relax and have a jolly good time while you're here." said Freddy. "Have a drink and forget all about him!"

Little did they know how near they'd come to getting closer to the truth. Their instincts were right as usual, but Alice's inadvertent involvement had skewed the facts.

In the far south-west corner of Niger, in North Africa, stood the capital city of Naimey.

With a population of seventeen thousand people, all predominantly poor, the area offered rich pickings for the supply of young girls aged anywhere between eleven years to fifteen.

Some would have been snatched off the street, chloroformed, gagged and tied up, others would have been sold to the gang for the price of a few loaves of bread by their unscrupulous families.

Life was cheap and with no contraception to speak of, one less child in the family to feed, would be a bonus.

And girls were of little concern, since their social standing was akin to wild dogs.

Setting out on it's treacherous journey, the long wheel base Landrover crossed into Mali, then continued on to Timbuktu, a distance of nearly seven hundred miles.

After fifteen hours of travelling the girls were dehydrated, frightened, hungry and thirsty, but this was of little concern to their captors.

Those girls who had been kidnapped would have their bonds cut and gags removed, but told to keep quiet under the threat of a severe beating.

Having been rendered unconscious, their thirst would be the fiercest.

However, their captors had to deliver their charges alive and in relative good health, otherwise a forfeit of ninety per cent of their fee would apply and the remaining ten per cent wouldn't even cover their costs.

Once clear of Timbuktu, the Landrover pulled over to the side of the road, the two negroes in charge, throwing open the rear door and hustling the girls out.

Shouting at them to do their business in the bushes, they were then given half a litre of water each and two loaves of bread to cover all ten of them.

If they became hysterical or difficult they were beaten.

Once the girls had finished their toilet, they were herded back into the Landrover, where, in cramped, hot conditions, they ate their meals.

From Timbuktu the Landrover headed for Bechar in the north of Algeria and close to the Moroccan border.

It was a journey of some one thousand, six hundred miles and would take, with stops every fifteen hours, two full days and nights.

Each time they stopped the girls would be given their meagre rations and told to relieve themselves in bushes or by the edge of the road.

It was a disgusting and degrading way to treat human beings.

From Bechar, they would travel a further eight hundred miles to Tangiers, a trip lasting another full day and night.

From there the girls would be loaded onto a boat in the dead of night and landed on a quiet, secluded beach on the southern tip of Spain, near Cadiz.

Another vehicle would then travel to its final destinaton, a large gated property in the hills overlooking San Pedro, about three miles from Marbella on the Costa del Sol.

And this is where the girls' nightmares would really begin.

Every month, perverts, pimps, paedophiles and brothel owners of varying ages and in the main, from the UK, Europe and the Middle East, would travel to this mansion where the girls would be paraded, half naked, in a bidding war.

It was incredibly lucrative for the organiser and the mansions owner.

Jimmy Hofton.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4.**

Sir Marcus arrived back at his Mayfair apartment at lunchtime, depressed and miserable, dismissing his chauffeur for the remainder of the weekend.

Having discarded his clothes, he threw on a silk dressing gown, poured himself a large gin and tonic and sat down in the lounge, his mind and thoughts saturated with images of Harry.

He emptied two full bottles of Gordon's throughout the afternoon, evening and late into the night, finally crashing out into a fitful, drunken slumber plagued with dreams of her beautiful features and body.

When he awoke the next morning, despite a fearful hangover, he knew he just had to see her again - and be near her again.

At Winfield Hall, Harry, James, Freddy and Alice were enjoying the hot, summer's afternoon.

Lunch had been another table full of delicious cold meat salad and for dessert, a choice of various ice cream flavours or chef's home made lemon meringue pie, were on offer.

Fresh coffee or iced tea were available too.

Red wine, warmed exactly to room temperature or white wine chilled to perfection, graced the sideboard in the dining room.

Having retired outside to a garden table on the terrace, they sat under a large umbrella, clutching their preferred drinks.

"Freddy darling that was a scrumptious lunch." applauded Alice, sipping her chilled Chardonnay. "I must walk it off."

"I rather think it's a bit hot to go walking, Alice, my dear." replied Freddy. "It must be approaching ninety degrees now. But you could always go for a dip in the pool, you know."

"Oh, I couldn't!" replied Alice, alarmed and wafting herself with an antique Japanese gunsen fan.

"Why not Aunt Alice?" asked Harry, sounding surprised.

"And let this dish of a man see all my wobbly bits!" she squealed, looking coyly at Dempsey, and swishing her fan furiously.

"But Aunt Alice, you're in great shape!" laughed Harry, "I'll be more than happy to have a figure like yours when I'm your age! And anyway, the pool is very private."

"You're too kind, Harriet darling." she replied, placing the fan on her lap. "Too kind, but I still think I look frightening in a bathing costume."

She began to look wistful.

"Oh dear." she said, suddenly. "And I do miss Marcus so."

Harry, Dempsey and Freddy exchanged glances, Harry thinking 'Damn it to hell! I thought we'd heard the last of him for this weekend!'

"Now now, Alice." said Freddy, speaking for the three of them. "You'll find another beau, my dear, I'm sure. He wasn't for you, you know."

"I know." she answered, looking down and studying her fan. "He's a blasted scoundrel but that's what attracts me to him!"

Harry glanced at Dempsey and rolled her eyes, he shaking his head slightly.

"How did you meet him?" enquired Harry, sensing an opportunity.

Dempsey was all ears too, as was Freddy.

At a dinner party." she replied. "He was charm personified. Bowled me over completely darling."

"Have you known him very long?" asked Dempsey, lighting a cigar.

"Nearly three months, James, darling." she answered. "I don't see him much during the week and once a month he flies off to Spain."

"Is that on business, then?" asked Harry, intrigued.

"Well I think so." replied Alice, the fan starting up again. "But I must say, he doesn't take any suits with him. I know, because I've seen him packing."

Harry and James frowned, their radar homing in on each other.

"How long is he there for?" asked Dempsey, blowing thick smoke into the light breeze and watching it quickly disperse.

"Oh, he flies out on a Friday evening and returns early Monday morning, darling."

"What part of Spain?" asked Harry, as nonchalantly as possible, conscious that Alice may suddenly object to the third degree questioning.

"Erm - er, Marbella?." she said, clearly trying to remember. "Yes I think it's Marbella, darling - well close to it - San somewhere or other."

"I can just imagine the fabulous hotels he must stay in." remarked Harry, deliberately leading her in to an answer, anxious to continue without her recognising she was being pumped mercilessly for information. "He's looks very wealthy."

"Oh! he is _very_ rich, darling." replied Alice. "I think he's got more money than he knows what to do with actually. I don't think he stays in hotels, though. A house, I think."

"A house huh?" said Dempsey, dragging on his cigar. "I thought people lived in villas and apartments out there."

"Oh most do, James." said Alice. "But this is a mansion, darling."

"Really." said Harry, resisting the urge to lean in closer. "Is it his?"

"No, I don't think so, Harriet." she replied, working her fan furiously again. "A friend of his owns it as far as I know."

Again Harry and Dempsey glanced at each other.

"Have you been there with him, Alice?" asked Freddy, having watched Harry and Dempsey's interest growing throughout the conversation and sensing they needed another questioner for balance.

"Nooo." she replied. "I just happened to overhear him talking to someone at a 'do' somewhere. My ears are everywhere, darling, I can listen to four conversations at once!"

"You're incorrigible Aunt Alice!" chuckled Harry. "We'll have to be careful you're not in earshot tomorrow then!"

Alice grinned at them, tapping the side of her nose, eyes twinkling and sending them into fits of laughter.

Whilst Freddy and Alice retired to their rooms for a siesta, Harry and James spent the afternoon in the open air swimming pool, which was tucked away behind beautfully trimmed and manicured hedges.

Although both good, strong swimmers, Harry was like a little fish and would dive under the surface, sneak up on Dempsey from behind and pull his swimming trunks to his ankles, wriggling away quickly before he could grab her.

He'd get his own back by catching her unawares and dunking her, laughing as she surfaced, spluttering, coughing and swearing blue murder at him.

Inevitably the hot sun, cool breeze, warm water, total privacy and their near nakedness was irresistible and it wasn't long before they'd surrendered to their burning passion for each other.

Sitting on the poolside later, allowing the setting sun to dry them, Harry kissed him.

"Good job there weren't any fish about, darling." she said, giggling. "We'd have frightened them senseless!"

"Fish!?" uttered Dempsey, incredulously. "In a swimming pool!?"

"Well, you know what I mean!"

"Yeah!" he replied, a wide grin spread across his face. "Say, that was an interesting conversation with Aunt Alice, huh angel?"

"My God, yes." she agreed. "I don't think we need three guesses as to whose villa Sir Marcus visits."

"No, but we do at guessing why." remarked Dempsey.

"Perhaps we should try digging a bit more at dinner, what do you think?"

"I dunno, honey." replied Dempsey. "I think Aunt Alice has told us all she knows. This afternoon's little chat was spontaneous. I don't think we should push it. Maybe if the subject comes up again naturally we might, but otherwise - no."

"Yes, maybe you're right. " agreed Harry. "Come on, I think shower, clothes and evening cocktails beckon."

"Mmmm, shower." said James, his voice low and expectant. "I'll scrub your back for you."

"Oh no you won't!" she said, emphatically. "Good God Dempsey, hasn't your libido been satified enough this afternoon!?"

"Er...!"

"Hmmm, you can have a shower all right!" she said, butting in before he could answer, yet unable to keep a smile off her face. "A freezing cold one!"

He pretended to lean in for a kiss, but just when their lips were about to touch, he tipped her into the pool then sprinted away to the house, Harry shouting all manner of ribaldry at him as she clambered out and gave chase.

Freddy and Alice were already dressed for the evening and enjoying a glass of champagne when Harry scampered by, cursing and laughing in pursuit.

"I don't think I've ever seen Harriet so happy, Freddy darling." she remarked. "They do make an exquisite couple, don't they."

"Yes Alice, my dear." answered Freddy, nodding happily. " She was all but destroyed in that ruddy marriage, but I do believe now it's true love for her, and for James, and solid in its foundations too."

"That's wonderful." said Alice, placing her hand on Freddy's, and smiling up at him. "Simply wonderful!"

When the two of them joined Alice and Freddy for cocktails, Harry brought a small wrapped gift and handed it to her father.

Inside was a first edition of "Casino Royale", Ian Fleming's first famous James Bond adventure.

"There's a box in my room Daddy, with all the other first editions of the entire Bond series." she said, then, after kissing him, continued. "I know how you love them. Happy birthday."

"Harry darling, how absolutely thoughtful of you." said Freddy. "I met Ian Fleming several times during the war when he was attached to naval intelligence."

"Yes, I know." replied Harry. "I've been tracking down all his Bond books for months!"

They spent the remainder of the evening listening to Alice regaling them with all manner of stories of her life and times followed by Freddy recounting the assignments Fleming got up to in the war and how much of it acted as the basis for his famous spy.

But there was little opportunity to press Alice further on the subject of Sir Marcus.

They all finally retired to bed, Dempsey wooing Harry, who found little reason to resist him.

At seven o'clock the next morning, a variety of contractors trucks, together with caterers and electricians vans arrived.

The contractors got to work erecting circular umbrellas with mahogany coloured stands, their brilliant white canopies spanning twenty feet in diameter.

Each one covered a matching table, with a pale blue table cloth and twelve chairs, each with a soft button cushion on the seat, another for the backrest and in a contrasting shade of lilac.

The terrace was completely covered with a white awning under which long, trestle tables were placed, the same pale blue being used for the table cloths.

Once constructed, the caterers began placing piles of dinner plates, side plates, cutlery, condiments and napkins on them.

To one side a bar was set up with beer or lager on tap and optics offering every conceivable spirit. Portable refridgerators were hidden under the bar itself to keep the ice frozen and mixers cold.

Champagne would be served on arrival to the guests by an array of waiters and waitresses, including an option to mix it with freshly squeezed orange juice.

An array of six types of wine - two white, two rose and two red - completed the choices.

The electricians strung multi coloured fairy lights through the trees and under both the umbrellas and awning. These would be switched on as dusk fell later.

Finally they wired up a dozen speakers, placed strategically throughout the grounds, the music to be controlled by a local disc jockey, who would arrive to provide the evening entertainment.

Around eighty guests were due from midday and by eleven-thirty everything was in place.

Freddy and Alice were enjoying a glass of chilled champagne when Harry and James joined them.

"Oh Harriet darling." said Alice, as she walked up to them." You look utterly divine. And James, so handsome!"

Harry had elected to wear a white pleated midi skirt, with side pockets, which finished two inches above the knee and complimented by a light brown leather belt with a brass buckle.

A mint green blouse in stretched cotton poplin contrasted perfectly, the first four buttons left undone exposing a hint of her decolletage.

She had left the collar turned up and on her feet were a pair of simple white open toe'd sandals.

Her make up was light, since the sun had already tanned her skin and with a hint of light pink lipstick matching the colour of her nails and toenails, she looked stunning.

Apart from her solid silver Cartier watch, she didn't wear any other jewelry.

Dempsey wore a pair of dark blue linen, summer weight, slacks, a white leather belt with silver buckle and a chester check short sleeved shirt in marina and pacific blue. His feet were encased in white slip on loafers and no socks.

"Thank you Aunt Alice." replied Harry. "You look lovely too, I adore your cerise summer dress."

"Oh do you think so, darling?" answered Alice. "Not too young for me then?"

"No, Aunt Alice, of course not." said Harry, glancing at her father. "And Daddy, so fetching in those pale yellow trousers!"

"Oh I'm glad you approve, Harry my darling." laughed Freddy, his blue eyes accentuated by a deeply tanned face and snow white hair.

By two o'clock all the guests had arrived, Alice having commandeered Dempsey and, with her arm linked through his, was busy proudly introducing him to everyone she came across, parading him around as Harry's soon to be fiance.

This wasn't lost on some of her distant male cousins, all of whom had always harboured a secret desire to step out with her. Many had tried over the years and failed miserably.

Dempsey was especially intrigued. 'Fiance? well I guess it could be true some day' he thought.

For her part, Harry was on Freddy's arm, casually chatting to old friends of the family but always conscious of where Dempsey was and often catching his eye as they circulated.

Finally, as everyone casually strolled over to fill their plates with the delicious food on offer, they came together.

"Aunt Alice looking after you, darling?" she asked, amused by the look of exhaustion on his face."

"Phew! You can say that again, angel." he replied, taking a long draught of chilled lager. "All this socialisin's hard work!"

Harry chuckled, then went silent, a look of horror on her face.

"Oh my God." she said slowly, glancing over Dempsey's shoulder. "Look who's had the audacity to turn up!"

Walking in to the party strolled Sir Marcus, his eyes shaded by dark sunglasses but it was obvious who his eyes were fixed upon and he made a beeline for her.

"Hello Miss Makepeace, you look beautiful." he said, leaving Harry cold. "I wanted to apologize for yesterday." The tip of his tongue whipped across his lips.

Harry looked away and closed her eyes, taking Dempsey's hand and steadying herself.

He took the lead, stood very close and gripped Sir Marcus by his elbow, his eyes boring into him.

"Listen bozo." he said, in a low, threatening voice and squeezing tight. "You ain't wanted here, so I suggest you take a hike - pronto!"

"Now look here chum, there's no n..."

He was stopped short by Aunt Alice, who, having suddenly spotted him from the other side of the garden, came marching across the lawn, meaning business.

"Marcus!?" she thundered, pointing to the house. "In!"

"My goodness!" remarked Harry, as they watched Sir Marcus sheepishly follow Alice through an open door. "Aunt Alice can be pretty fearsome when her hackles are up, can't she!"

"Yeah, an' I'm real glad she's on my team!" answered Dempsey, grinning.

"Was that that blackguard Battersby-Thorpe I saw with Alice?" said Freddy, as he approached them.

"Yes Daddy it was." answered Harry. "And Aunt Alice was non too pleased either."

"No I don't suppose she was." replied Freddy. "But knowing how she feels about him, don't expect him to be leaving any time soon!"

"Do you think we should grill him again." suggested Harry. "This time about his Spanish trips?"

"No, I don't." replied Dempsey. "Tempting though it is, I think we should wait until we're back at SI-10 tomorrow. We can start looking at the frequency of his flights for instance, then if need be, pay him a visit."

"James, is right, Harry darling." agreed Freddy. "Here and now is not the time."

"All I'll say Freddy, is if that guy makes a nuisance of himself to Harry, I'm throwing him out!" warned Dempsey.

"And I will help you." stated Freddy, his eyes betraying his determination. "Sister or no sister."

After around half an hour, Alice rejoined the party with Sir Marcus on her arm and began introducing him to everyone, clearly having forgiven him.

As the light began to fade and night approached, the fairy lights were switched on, throwing their magical aura over the entire area.

The disc jockey, who had arrived in late afternoon and played easy listening background music, now stepped up the beat with some old classics, attracting many couples onto a nearby patio, doubling as a dance floor.

Harry and Dempsey had the first dance together, but then were often parted, as a stream of men vied for her attention, keeping her occupied for a full forty-five minutes non stop.

Finally excusing herself she joined him at a table, flopping down next to him and taking a long drink of white wine.

"Happy honey?" enquired Dempsey, grinning at her exhaustion.

"I think I've done my bit." she answered, smiling back at him. "Now I can concentrate on _you_!"

The unmistakeable intro to 'Strangers In The Night' began, and the familiar, unique voice of Frank Sinatra crooned into the night air.

"Ooh, one of my favourites." sighed Harry, grabbing Dempsey's hand. "Come on darling, smooch with me!"

They wandered onto the dance floor, Harry throwing her arms around Dempsey's neck, deep love in her eyes as she looked at him, deliberately pressing the centre of her body into his.

"I love you darling." she said, kissing his lips.

"I love you too - you minx!" said Dempsey, quietly, as he responded to her.

"Just a foretaste of what's to come later." she whispered, her blue eyes sultry and wanting.

Watching all this from the sidelines was Sir Marcus, who had spent the majority of his time since arriving, glancing surreptitiously at Harry whenever he got he chance.

Watching _him _though, had been Freddy and sensing Sir Marcus might let his feelings for his daughter get the better of him, took his opportunity when Alice went to powder her nose.

"Sir Marcus." he said, drawing him close. "I can't help but notice that you seem a little too interested in my daughter."

"No, no I ..." he stammered.

"Come, come Sir Marcus," continued Freddy. "I've spent too long around scoundrels like you to know when I'm being lied to, so you don't fool me. My daughter is off limits for one thing, secondly, her partner can be, how shall I put it, very protective of her and thirdly, you're stepping out with my sister, so if you do anything to hurt her, you will have my wrath to deal with. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly, Lord Winfield." answered Sir Marcus, his tongue licking around his thin lips.

"Good." replied Freddy. "Then I suggest you concentrate on making Alice happy."

Just then, Abbott stepped up alongside Freddy and whispered in his ear.

"Oh right, I'll fetch them." he said and strode over to the edge of the dance floor, beckoning Harry and Dempsey's attention.

"What is it Daddy?" said Harry, when they reached him.

"Telephone call for you both. Take it in my study."

Harry and Dempsey looked at each other, knowing instinctively that something was amiss and made their way to Freddy's study, emerging ten minutes later.

"Anything important?" asked Freddy as they joined him.

"Yes Daddy." replied Harry. "That was Spikings. A dead body has been discovered in a wood in Warwickshire. A young black girl and she's been strangled."

In earshot was Sir Marcus.

And he went cold, then pale.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5.**

Suddenly Alice's voice made him jump.

"Marcus darling?" she said. "The queue for food has eased now, so can we please get something to eat, I'm rather hungry."

"Er yes, my dear." he replied, gathering himself together. "Of course, let's go."

Harry looked over at him, realising he'd been standing just a few feet from them and nudged Dempsey.

"Huh?" said Dempsey, noting a hint of concern in her eyes. "What princess?"

"Do you think he heard us?" she said, leaning her head and rolling her eyes in Sir Marcus's direction.

"Who, Bandit Romeo?" he questioned, glancing at his receding back as he escorted Alice to the buffet area.

"Bandit who!?" asked Freddy, looking at them both inquisitively.

"Oh, just our pet name for Sir Marcus, Daddy." replied Harry, smiling, still finding it as amusing as to the first time Dempsey coined it.

"He certainly considers himself a romeo, that's for sure." agreed Freddy. "As for a bandit, well, _that _you'll have to prove."

"Yeah, well, there ain't nothin' we can do 'bout that now." replied Dempsey. "But if he did hear us an' knows somethin' 'bout this dead black girl, then he's gonna get nervous. 'An nervous guys make mistakes."

"Presumably Gordon Spikings considers the discovery of this black girl sufficient enough to involve SI-10?" asked Freddy, nodding at Dempsey's last observation. "This would usually be a case handled by the CID."

"I guess it would be, yeah." agreed Dempsey. "But since we accidently came across his nibs over there with a young black girl in 'Stringfellows' _and _his association with one of London's vice kings, I guess Spikings thinks there could be a connection."

"Oh bother!" exclaimed Freddy. "I do wish Alice wasn't so interested in that character. Like both of you, I sense there's something about him that doesn't ring true."

"Yes." said Harry. "And something tells me Aunt Alice shouldn't admit to telling us about his trips abroad, you know. If he _is_ up to something unsavoury, I doubt he'd be too impressed in knowing we have been made aware of it."

"No, quite." agreed Freddy, rubbing his chin, deep in thought. "Mmm, leave it with me. Anyway are you enjoying the party?"

"Absolutely yes, Daddy. Everything's been wonderful and the weather has been perfect." replied Harry, smiling at him, then looking at Dempsey and grabbing his hand as Sade's "Smooth Operator" floated into earshot. "And it's not over yet!"

Freddy beamed as his daughter and the man he hoped she'd eventually marry, walked swiftly to the dance area, and watched them blend together, their bodies immediately in tune with each other, as they swayed into step to the songs rhythm.

He sighed, then caught sight of Alice making for the house. Swifty, yet without drawing attention to himself, he followed her in.

"Alice." he called.

She turned round a little startled.

"Oh it's you Freddy darling." she said. "You made me jump. Wonderful party."

"Yes it has been good." he answered. "I'd just like a quiet word, my dear, in private. Come into my study."

Intrigued and a little alarmed, she trotted in after him.

"What's wrong Freddy, darling." she asked. "You look rather serious."

"I'll come straight to the point, Alice." he said. "As you know I've spent many years working with the Government and in that time, one aquires a sixth sense about situations and about people."

"Oh Freddy, no!" she wailed, cottoning on to him instantly "You're not going to tell me to stop seeing Marcus are you?"

"No Alice, I'm not. Well not quite." he answered, putting his hand up before she could butt in again. " I _am_ going to check him out though. I'm afraid there is something about him I simply do not trust and, well, you're my sister and I love you and I want to be sure that whomsoever it is you're stepping out with is worthy of you. So I want you to be careful about what you say to him."

"Well, like what for instance?" she asked, frowning.

"Well for instance, his regular trips to Spain for one." replied Freddy. "I mean you, yourself, seemed quite puzzled when you were talking to us yesterday. Have you told him you've spoken to me about them?"

"No I haven't Freddy." she answered. "Why would I?"

"No specific reason, my dear." he said. "But until I've satisfied my curiosity, I want you to keep it that way. Alright?"

"Well alright Freddy, darling." she said. "If you say so."

"Good. Thank you my dear. Now please, enjoy the rest of the night."

As midnight came and went, the guests began to depart, eventually leaving Harry, Dempsey, Freddy, Alice and Sir Marcus alone.

They were all sitting together at one of the tables, finishing their drinks, Harry on Dempseys knee, his arm around her waist, her arm around his neck, her free hand holding his and stroking it. Sir Marcus wished it were he.

Harry pretended to yawn, putting her hand to her mouth.

"Well if you'll excuse us, I think it's time for bed." she said, stifling yet another pretend yawn. "Daddy, thank you for a fabulous party."

He stood up, as they did, and hugged her, Dempsey shaking his hand.

"Yeah, thanks Freddy." he said. "Great pardy and Happy Birthday again."

"It wouldn't have been the same without you two."

"Harriet darling, good night. Lovely to see you again." said Alice, hugging her close, then with a winking eye. " And remember, we must lunch soon!"

Harry winked back and giggled.

"James, you handsome hunk of male testosterone!" said Alice. "You look after my neice. She's very precious to me."

"You got it Aunt Alice." gasped Dempsey, as the breath was squeezed out of him. "She is to me too."

"Good night Sir Marcus." said Harry, finally, Dempsey just nodding at him.

Before he could answer they were gone, his heart pounding as he watched them disappear into the house, arms around each other's waist.

Harry had never enjoyed a weekend such as this for as long as she could remember, in fact some weekends had brought very bad memories indeed, especially during her hurtful marriage, but now she was truly in love, relaxed, happy and at peace.

Safe in the knowledge that James mirrored her in every way, the hot day, balmy night and sensual music that brought their bodies close in dance, had set fire to their libido's and that night they had little sleep, the electricity between them sparking their passion into life, time and again.

They vaguedly heard the sharp roar of the Ferrari as its engine started up virtually under their window, or Alice's complaints at having to climb into such a low sports car.

Somewhat hungover from lack of sleep the next morning, they joined Freddy in the dining room for breakfast.

He smiled to himself on seeing them, suspecting full well how their night had gone but, of course, said nothing.

They chose grilled kippers, garnished with chopped parsley, with brown, buttered bread on the side, washed down with fresh coffee.

"Did Aunt Alice get away okay last night, Freddy?" asked Harry, taking a sip of her hot, steaming drink.

"Yes, of a sorts," chuckled Freddy. "She found Sir Marcus's Ferrari somewhat more difficult to step into gracefully than the Rolls."

"Ah, poor Aunt Alice." giggled Harry, picturing the scene.

"Did you manage to speak to her about keeping her powder dry?" asked Dempsey.

"Yes I did James." replied Freddy. "In fact I'm going to do a bit of snooping myself, so I'll keep in touch, if I may."

"Absolutely you may Daddy." confirmed Harry, happy for her father to use his contacts.

After breakfast, they said their final goodbyes, headed for London and the SI-10 offices.

Upon arrival, Spikings ordered them into his office immediately.

"What gives Chief?" asked Dempsey, noting his distaste at the americanism.

"Well, whilst you've been rubbing shoulders with the hoi polloi, Lieutenant, we've been hard at work trying to identify the dead girl found yesterday."

"Why can't you identify her sir?" asked Harry, allowing the reference to her family as hoi polloi to pass!

"Because the tops of her fingers are missing." replied Spikings. "So we don't have any finger prints, obviously. All we do know is that she was strangled to death."

"Oh my God." said Harry, swallowing hard at the thought of hands with only half their fingers left. "Was she alive when whoever it was, did this to her?"

"We can't be sure, I'm afraid." said Spikings.

Harry shivered.

"What else?" asked Dempsey, certain there was more to come.

"She'd recently had sexual intercourse and she was pregnant, Lieutenant, and, once all her heavy make up was removed, we think she was no more than thirteen years old."

"Oh no." gasped Harry, then gathering herself, went on.

"Who found her, sir?" she asked, quietly, glancing at Dempsey, whose eyes were intent on comforting her.

"A family, man and his wife with their two young boys, out for a walk, Sergeant." replied Spikings. "Their spaniel began worrying the ground and when the father tried to drag him away, he noticed the earth had been disturbed and on closer inspection, suspected a grave."

"Dear God." remarked Harry. "Don't tell me their children saw it all."

"No Harry, they didn't." said Spikings, sympathetic to her reaction. "The father was savvy enough to get his family away and then call 999 from a nearby 'phone box"

"How long had she been dead, sir?" she asked, her imagination still vivid.

"About one week." replied Spikings.

"Do we have _anything_ to give us an idea of who she was and where she came from?" asked Dempsey.

"So far the autopsy can only ascertain that she's from North Africa, Nigeria maybe, or Mali, but other than that it's a blank, I'm afraid. However, we may be able to use a new method of identification."

"Are you talking about using her DNA?" asked Dempsey.

"Yes Lieutenant, I am. I'm glad you're taking notice of the developments in that field." said Spikings, for once impressed. "About four years ago, a man called Kary Mullis, a molecular biologist and biochemist, developed the PCR analysis, by which specific portions of the sample DNA can be amplified almost indefinitely and has revolutionized the whole field of DNA study."

"What does PCR stand for sir?" asked Harry, intrigued.

"Polymerase chain reaction, Sergeant." replied Spikings. "The DNA profiling technique was first reported last year by Sir Alec Jeffreys at Leicester University. And his genetic fingerprinting was made commercially available just recently, when ICI started a blood-testing centre."

"So we're sending a swab of this girls DNA to them?" asked Dempsey.

"Yes Dempsey, we are."

"But how will that tell us anything, sir?" asked Harry.

"Forensics have found traces of two types of bodily fluid on the carpet the girls body was wrapped up in." replied Spikings. "So it seems to suggest that it was on that carpet where she had intercourse."

"So if her bodily fluid matches that also found on the carpet, it'll prove she had sex on it." said Dempsey.

"Correct Lieutenant."

"Okay." said Harry. "So let's say the two do compare, how does that help us find who killed her?"

"It's a start, Makepeace." replied Spikings. "If we can find a match for the semen then we could have our killer."

Harry started frowning, deep in thought.

"Er hang on." she said. "I have an idea."

"I know what you're thinkin' Makepeace." said Dempsey, keeping things formal for Spikings sake, their radar tuning in to each other as usual. "Go on, you got it first."

"Thank you Dempsey." she said. "Sir, as you know we saw Sir Marcus with an underage black girl last week. Now it may just be coincidence, but the connection is too strong to ignore. If we can set him up and get a DNA sample of his semen, which then matches that on the carpet, then we'll know that he had intercourse with her. It won't tell us if he killed her, but it will prove he was involved in her death."

"Are you suggesting you sleep with him, Sergeant?"

"Good God sir, no!" answered Harry, almost retching at the mere thought. "But I do know one or two prostitutes who might be willing to help us."

"You do realise that would be deemed entrapment in a court of law, don't you."

"Only if the hooker could be traced back to us, yeah." answered Dempsey. "But if we do find he's involved, we can put a plea out on, say, 'Crimewatch' appealing for anyone who's been in sexual contact with him. Ok, so the timings back to front and we'd have to trust the hooker to keep quiet about it bein' a set up, but I guess she'd go along with it, if the inducement was good enough."

"So you are suggesting we fix Sir Marcus up with a hooker, who gets him to have sex with her, then allows us to take a DNA swab of her - um..."

"Er, yes, sir. Her vagina." said Harry, quite openly. "Or her mouth, depending on his preferences."

They'd never seen Spikings blush before and it took all their self control to keep straight faces.

"It's a great idea, Chief." said Dempsey, swallowing the urge to laugh. "An' I got an idea it'll nail the sleazeball."

"You don't like him much, do you Dempsey." said Spikings. "Any reason?"

Harry shot him a warning glance.

"I don't like him either, sir." she said quickly. "He's seeing my Aunt at present and was at my fathers party."

"He was there, was he?" asked Spikings. "Did you manage to learn anything new?"

"As a matter of fact, yes we did, sir." replied Harry. "We were going to tell you earlier, but the dead girl rather took precedence."

"I see." said Spikings. "Carry on then."

"We found out he makes monthly trips to Spain." said Dempsey.

"And that's important?" asked Spikings.

"It is when you know it's Jimmy Hofton's mansion he goes to." said Harry.

"And how do you know its Hofton's place?"

"Well, we don't for certain, Chief." said Dempsey. "But I'd lay my years salary on it."

"Salary or no salary Dempsey, you need _proof!_"

"Yeah, well, the only way of gettin' proof is if Makepeace an' I took a trip out there and did some snoopin' around."

"Well before I authorise you two to go swanning off to sunny climes, I think we'd best put your theory to test with the - er, lady of the night, shall we say."

"Ok Chief, we'll get right on it." agreed Dempsey. "An' maybe Chas can find out if Jimmy Hofton owns a Spanish mansion, huh?"

"He can try Lieutenant." replied Spikings. "But we've been after him for a long time and property abroad has never come up in any of our searches."

"Perhaps it's registered in another name or a company?" suggested Harry.

"Not to our knowledge, Sergeant. But it won't do any harm to check again." said Spikings. "Let me know when you've organised the sting."

They left the office and drove straight to Harry's house to unpack and gather their thoughts on the developments so far.

"I guess we need to find a black hooker, angel, don't we?" suggested Dempsey after they'd sat down with a coffee each. "Know anyone?"

"Yes I do as a matter of fact Dempsey." she answered. "Winnie Simons might do it."

"Where's she hang out?"

"She lives in Peckham." replied Harry, " I got to know her when I was working undercover in that damned smokey bar you first saw me in."

"Oh yeah, I remember that." said Dempsey, smiling. "You had a short pink dress on with a hole in your stocking and kept wigglin' ya ass when you walked."

"Turn you on did I?" she said, sidling up to him of the sofa.

"Damn right, princess." he said, leaning across and kissing her."Didn't do me no good though, did it!"

"Ha! I _knew _you fancied me!" she exclaimed. "If you want to know the truth, Dempsey, I thought you were hot!"

"Huh! You coulda fooled me! You gave me nothin' but grief for the next eighteen friggin' months!"

"I know." she said. "I was frightened of letting my feelings get the better of me. You know, once you're really hurt and find your trust is totally destroyed, it's difficult giving in to feelings again."

"Yeah I know angel." said Dempsey. "But you coulda least've given me a hint!"

"Well I did actually." she said, smiling up at him.

"When?" he replied, disbelievingly.

"Stringfellows. When we were working on that Lowe case? " she said. "And you came to find me after we'd had a row? I got quite smashed on champagne and my heart did leaps when I saw you'd come to find me."

"Yeah? he said, still not totally convinced.

"Good lord Dempsey!" she retorted. " How many hints does it take? I even persuaded Angela to swap clothes with me because you loved her dress so much! Don't you remember?"

"All I remember is you were a crazy, beautiful drunk who made no secret of the fact she wanted me to take her to bed. 'An you gave me a hard time the next day and the third degree as to whether I took advantage of you or not!"

"Oh yes." she said, sheepishly. "I was rather cruel wasn't I, not remembering whether we actually - did it."

"That's because we didn't."

"Mmm, knowing you now as I do, I _would_ have remembered." she said, her eyes beckoning.

"Don't you look at me like that!" said Dempsey. "We've got work to do an' my resistance is low at the best of times when you get that gaze in your eyes!"

She threw her head back and laughed.

"Oh darling I'm sorry." she said, kissing him. "I do love you so."

They dragged themselves off the sofa and drove over to Winnie Simon's high rise flat in Peckham.

Harry knocked on the door.

"I ain't workin' yet so you can piss off!" came the answer from inside.

"Winnie it's Harry? You remember? Harry Mack from the pub?"

The door opened a fraction and an attractive face peered round it. Her eyes lit up.

"'Arry? Yeah it _is_ you! Come in girl." she said, opening the door and looking at Dempsey. "Who's this 'andsome bugger then?"

"He's my partner."

"Should be yer bleedin' lover girl. Look at 'im. Bloody gorgeous he is!"

They walked in to the flat and found a seat on a worn out old settee.

"Wanna a cuppa tea, girl? Soon put the kettle on."

"Er no thanks Winnie, just had one." lied Harry. "So how have you been?"

"Oh you know, makin' a livin'. You?"

"I'm actually a copper Winnie." said Harry.

"You? a copper? Well I never would 'ave believed it!" said Winnie. "You're too beautiful to be a bleedin' copper. Anyway what do you want with the likes of me after all this time, eh? Is this a bust or what?"

Harry explained what she had to do and the basic rudiments of DNA testing.

"'Ow much?" asked Winnie.

"How much do you want?" replied Harry.

"Well my usual rate is thirty quid for half hour and seventy-five for an hour."

"We'll give you two hundred and you'll get your normal fee from the client anyway. I suggest you double it though, he's a very rich guy."

"'An all I gotta do is shag 'im, yeah?"

"Yes but we need a sample of his semen, so, you know, make sure it's available." said Harry.

"Yeah, I know." she said. "Not to put too fine a point on it, I'll just wipe meself down wiv me knickers and give 'em to you, yeah?"

Dempsey nearly choked and Harry coughed, then just stared at her, speechless for a moment at Winnie's brazen honesty.

"Er yes Winnie, exactly right." she eventually said.

"Okay then. 'Ow do we get this fella to book me then?" asked Winnie.

"We think he frequents 'Stringfellows' night club during the week." said Harry. "So we're going to have to stake the place out every night until he shows up. As and when he does, I can sign you in, but then you're on your own. He appears partial to coloured women, young girls actually, but if you can dress provocatively, you're sure to attract his attention."

"I'll need more than a cuppla hundred quid then." said Winnie. "'Cos if I'm gonna be spendin' time pissin' about with you's two waitin' for this geezer to show 'imself, I'll be losin' money."

"How much do you make a night then?" asked Dempsey.

"It varies." she said. "I work from eight at night 'till two in the mornin' an' probably get 'bout half a dozen geezers in that time, on average you understand. You a Yank?"

"Sure am." replied Dempsey. "New York."

Before she could answer, Harry kept the subject on track.

"So if we use that average, it'd be about three hundred pounds a night?" suggested Harry.

"Yeah, sounds 'bout right 'Arry me darlin'"

"Okay, that's a deal, Winnie." said Dempsey, Harry nodding in agreement.

"We'll pick you up tomorrow night at eight, then drive to the club and park opposite." confirmed Harry. "When he shows up you can go to work. If you're successful he'll obviously want to take you somewhere, probably his apartment in Mayfair."

"Mayfair eh? You don't say." said Winnie. "Must be a rich one then."

"Oh trust us, he is!" said Harry."And you're likely to travel by Rolls Royce too."

"Maybe I'll set about 'im in 'is Roller then." she said, grinning. "I've never shagged in one of them!"

"No, er right then Winnie." confirmed Harry. "We'll see you tomorrow night."

"Ok 'Arry me love." she said, winking at Dempsey. "Toodle pip 'an all that."

Harry and Dempsey drove back to SI-10 and brought Spikings up to speed.

"I hope Sir Marcus shows up then." he said. "Three hundred pounds a night is pushing it!"

"There's no other quicker way of finding out if he's involved though, sir." said Harry.

"No, I get that Sergeant." replied Spikings. "But this will have to be on the QT. I can't get sanction from the Commissioner at this stage since he rubs shoulders with Sir Marcus Battersby-Thorpe at various functions."

He paused, then continued.

"Right get to it then. Let's hope it works."

The next night, as arranged, they collected Winnie at eight o'clock, using Harry's white Ford Escort convertible.

She certainly looked the part.

Wearing a thin white blouse, cut very low, it left little to the imagination, her full breasts pushing the material tight around them, her dark nipples prominent.

A black leather mini-skirt hugged her body and her matching knee length, high heeled boots accentuated her shapely thighs.

To Harry's surprise she hadn't plastered on the make-up, a wig of shoulder length black hair, false eyelashes and minimal lipstick, the only additions to her overall appearance.

"Will I do then 'Arry?" she said, but looking directly at Dempsey.

Harry glanced an amused eye at him.

"Yeah sure lady." he said. "You look the business."

"Ooh, don't 'e talk nice." she said. "Anytime you feelin' lonely..."

"Okay lets go then." butted in Harry quickly as she started the car and sped off.

They arrived outside 'Stringfellows' parked opposite and waited.

Two hours went by.

"I don't think we going to be in luck tonight." sighed Harry. "What do you think, give it another half an hour, maybe?"

As she said it, a black Rolls Royce cruised up to the pavement, registration number MBT 1. The chauffeur got out and opened the rear door, Sir Marcus stepping out.

"That's him." said Harry. "And we are in luck after all. He's alone."

"Mmm, he looks quite sexy." said Winnie. "I 'ave a thing for older men."

Harry said nothing. They waited another ten minutes.

"Ok Winnie." said Dempsey, finally. "Harry'll sign you in. We'll be here an' we'll follow the car if you are successful. Good luck."

He watched as Harry escorted her over to the door and spoke to the bouncer, who nodded and let them both in. A few minutes later, Harry emerged and got back into the car.

"Fingers crossed darling." she said, grabbing his hand.

Inside the club, Winnie made straight for the bar and finding an empty stool, sat on it, her skirt riding up her thighs. Ordering a vodka and tonic, she swung round and faced the room, looking slowly around until she spotted Sir Marcus.

Catching his eye, she parted her legs just a little and looked directly at him.

It was enough.

He strolled over and stood next to her, ordering a gin and tonic. Glancing at her half empty glass, he said.

"May I buy you a drink?"

"Sure baby." she said, putting on her best accent. "Very kind, thanks."

"Are you alone?" he asked.

"Looks like it." she answered. "My date hasn't shown up."

"He must be mad." replied Sir Marcus, the tip of his tongue wiping across his lips. "My name is Marcus."

"Jill." she said, holding out her hand.

Taking it, he kissed it, his eyes fixed on her substantial bust.

"Would you care to spend the evening with me, Jill?"

"Yeah, why not." she replied, then stroking his hand, said. "Shall we go somewhere more private?"

"My car is outside and my apartment isn't far."

"Sounds good to me." she said, sliding off the stool, her skirt riding up to the top of her thighs.

"Come with me then." She could have sworn he was panting.

They walked out, Sir Marcus gesturing to something invisible down the road.

Immediately his Rolls Royce appeared and whispered to a halt beside them, the liveried chauffeur climbing out and opening the rear door.

They slid onto the cream leather, Winnie, once seated, placing her hand high on Sir Marcus's inner thigh, then gliding her nails gently up and down it, fleetingly touching his genital area every time.

The car glided away, Harry following at a safe distance.

Pushing a button in his door, a partition, fashioned in black glass, silently emerged from an area in the back of the front seats, separating them from the chauffeur.

Fully aroused by now, Sir Marcus couldn't resist the enticing sight of her bare thighs, legs parted slightly and began to respond in kind.

Winnie moved her hand to the zip in his trousers, slowly opening his fly.

Suddenly his car telephone began buzzing.

He thought about ignoring it, this being exactly the wrong time to be holding a telephone conversation.

But he answered it anyway.

"Where the hell have you been!" snarled the voice at the other end. "I've been trying to get hold of you for bloody hours!"

"Er, I've been at a meeting all afternoon with prospective clients." he explained. "It went on until nearly ten o'clock. Why?"

"Have you got a hooker in there with you?"

"I might have." answered Sir Marcus, as Winnie began to work on him. "What's it to you? And how do you know, anyway?"

"She's a bloody plant, mate!"

"What do you mean?"

"She's been sent specially to seduce you! She's a hooker! I don't know exactly what's behind it, but I suggest you get rid, mate!"

"Yes, well thank you." said Sir Marcus, replacing the receiver.

Looking down at Winnie, he said suddenly. "Alright, who sent you!?"

Winnie stopped what she was doing and looked back up to him. "Sorry?"

"I said, who sent you, you bitch!"

She sat up, sensing trouble. "Sent me? No-one sent me."

"Liar!" he shouted and punched her in the mouth, sending her reeling across the car, blood spurting from her burst lip.

Thinking quickly, she grabbed the door handle, yanked it open and deliberately flung herself out of the car, landing painfully on the road, tearing the arm of her blouse to shreds and lascerating her legs on the tarmac.

The Rolls stopped immediately, its reversing lights then glowing as it prepared to go back for her.

But Harry's car screeched to a halt beside Winnie, the Rolls then accelerating away.

Harry and Dempsey, both lept from the car and rushed to her aid.

Helping her up they supported her and walked her slowly to the car.

"Oh my God, Winnie!" exclaimed Harry, once they'd settled her in the back seat. "Whatever happened?"

She falteringly told them.

Harry and Dempsey gazed at each other, realisation dawning on them instantly.

"We've got a mole, honey" said Dempsey. "A friggin' cuckoo in the nest somewhere!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6.**

At A&E, while Winnie was being treated for shock and her injuries, Dempsey and Harry sat in the busy main waiting area, deep in discussion, leaning forward with elbows on their knees, their heads bent and nearly touching.

"Winnie said it was all going to plan when Sir Marcus's car telephone rang." said Harry, in a low voice, almost a whisper. "She couldn't hear what was being said the other end, but when he finished the call he suddenly turned on her, demanding to know who had put her up to it."

"Yeah, well someone in the team did." said Dempsey, angrily. "All our cases are an open secret in the office. We often discuss the other guys' assignments, don't we. We're a specially selected unit, workin' together, made up of the elite, the best!"

He sat up and slammed one fist into the other, the loud smack causing a few around them to glance at him.

Harry grabbed his hand.

"Steady on Dempsey!" she whispered urgently. "I'm as angry as you are, but we need to stay calm on this. Someone in SI-10 has slipped through the security net, goodness knows how, seeing as we are regularly screened. You can't go to the toilet without it being known!"

"They don't know about us, angel." remarked Dempsey. "So the system ain't _that_ infallible."

"Ok that's true." agreed Harry. "But it does mean one thing, in that case."

"What?" asked Dempsey, still trying to keep a lid on his anger at the betrayal by someone he trusted.

"If we can keep our true relationship secret, then the cuckoo can protect _his _cover too!"

"Jeeezus Harry!" said Dempsey. "Not only are we trying to get to the bottom of what Hofton might be up to, and how that creep Sir Marcus is involved, together with an unidentified dead, possibly tortured, young, ex-pregnant black girl, but we've now got some invisible scumbag watching our every friggin' move!"

"So how do we play it now?" asked Harry, not waiting for an answer but continuing. "One things for sure - by warning Sir Marcus about Winnie, the cuckoo has now exposed himself to us, insomuch that we now know he exists."

"Then he's playing a very dangerous game!" stated Dempsey. "And there can be only one or two reasons he's been nobbled."

"Yes." agreed Harry. "Money or blackmail."

"Yeah. He's either seriously in debt or has something in his past that Hofton or Sir Marcus has discovered." confirmed Dempsey. "'An now we know why Jimmy Hofton has been so elusive to an arrest in the past. He's been tipped off every time. Beats me as to why no-one in SI-10 twigged that!"

"Yes, he must have been very clever, but he may have slipped up now. I think we'd better get hold of Spikings and meet somewhere." said Harry, glancing at her watch. "It's gone midnight and we have to get Winnie safely home, so it'll have to wait until morning."

At that point she emerged from her treatment room, looking like the walking wounded.

"Oh bless her." whispered Harry, clutching Dempseys hand again, close to tears and feeling very emotional at having exposed her to such danger.

The left sleeve of her blouse had been removed exposing her arm held in a sling, she having fractured it on impact with the road, her legs were bandaged in several places where a myriad of cuts, abrasions and bruises had been caused as she skidded to a halt on the tarmac and her badly split lip was severely swollen thanks to the hard punch Sir Marcus had given her.

The nurse was carrying her scuffed boots, one heel missing and her black leather skirt was all but ruined too.

Having thanked the nurse, Harry taking the boots from her, Dempsey scooped Winnie into his arms and carried her out to the car, several people gawping at the sight of them and muttering to each other.

After Harry had got into the rear, Dempsey gently placed Winnie on the front seat and drove them back to Peckham, Winnie having refused Harry's offer of staying with her for the night at her house.

Once in her flat, she instructed Dempsey to carry her into the bedroom so she could change, looking mischeviously at him.

"Shure you don' wanna 'elp me, darlin'?" she said, struggling to get the words out through her damaged mouth.

"Hells teeth Winnie, you're a tough cookie!" said Dempsey, smiling at her.

"You 'ave to be in thish game, baby." she said, waving him away.

Ten minutes later she limped into the living room, a pink dressing gown having replaced her ruined clothes and sat down slowly in a careworn armchair.

"I'm okay now, thanksh, you don' 'ave to shtay no more."

"If you're sure Winnie." said Harry, tears in her eyes. "We've got all night, you know."

"Take 'im 'ome to yer bed, girl!" she answered, emphatically, before winking at Harry. "yer knows yer wan' to. Yer can't fool me, 'Arry Mack."

They both smiled at her, knowing that although considered low-life by many, she was as canny as they came and with a heart of gold.

Harry quickly wiped away a tear.

"Okay, but before we go I want you to know we'll replace all your clothes and cover your losses for the next week while you recover." she said, taking a card from her pocket and giving it to her. "This is where you can call me, anytime Winnie."

"Okay, an' shtop worryin' 'bout me." she said. "Worsh things 'ave 'appened in thish game, girl."

They winged their way home, Harry very quiet, Dempsey respecting her silence and once in bed, she snuggled deep into his arms, feeling safe and fell asleep. Dempsey lay awake for most of the night, his mind working hard on how to expose the cuckoo in their nest, but was no nearer a solution by morning.

He did, however, come up with a theory and his nose told him he was on the right track.

At seven o'clock, Harry called Spikings at home.

"I presume it didn't work, Makepeace, seeing as you've found it necessary to disturb the breakfast Mrs Spikings has so lovingly cooked for me."

"It's serious, sir." said Harry, ignoring his cynicism. "We need to meet somewhere other than SI-10."

Spikings was immediately alert.

"Meet me at 'Alf's', that greasy spoon on Valley Street, in half an hour." he instructed, avoiding, at all costs, looking at his wife, who was standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands on both hips and glaring at him.

Harry and Dempsey beat him to it and secured a table at the very back of the cafe, where they'd get as much privacy as possible. They ordered coffee and waited for Spikings, who arrived five minutes later.

"Would you like a drink, sir?" asked Harry.

"Yes, coffee please Sergeant."

Harry went to fetch it, laying it in front of him upon her return.

"Now, what's all this about?" asked Spikings, taking a sip.

"Last night our hooker was compromised." started Dempsey. "All was going smoothly to plan until Sir Marcus received a call on his car telephone. From there it all went pear shaped."

Harry continued, explaining the next course of events.

When she'd finished, Spikings was silent but visibly seething.

"A mole, a traitor, a damned cuckoo in _my _team!" he thundered eventually, one or two customers glancing round at him.

"Sir!" whispered Harry, urgently, looking at various faces staring at them.

"Yes, alright Sergeant. We'll talk in my car." announced Spikings, getting up from the table.

They followed him out to his blue Granada.

"I don't have to tell you two just how serious all of this is." said Spikings, as they settled in their seats. "Not only has this traitor in our midst prevented the arrest of that scum Hofton, but he's now involved in covering up murder by the looks of it. And aside from all of that, if this gets out, it could close down SI-10!"

"It won't get out through us, Chief!" said Dempsey, Harry nodding her agreement.

"No, I know I can trust you two." said Spikings.

"Listen Chief." said Dempsey. "The way I see's it, is this. We ain't gonna expose this cuckoo 'til we've got more answers on the dead girl. An' my nose tells me she could've been part of a sex ring. You know, human traffickin'. 'An I also reckon the key to that lies in Spain."

"And where's the proof, Dempsey?" asked Spikings.

"Chief, I ain't got no goddam proof!" said Dempsey, unable to control the exasperation in his voice and Spikings's insistence on playing things by the book. "Just a hunch right now."

He took a deep breath and continued.

"Look what've we got so far? A dead, once pregnant black girl of thirteen years old lyin' in the mortuary back there and no clue as to who she is. Another young black girl being forced into Jimmy Hofton's limo, clearly against her will, and who's now disappeared. They're both black! An' black means Africa. It doesn't take Einstein to work out that a trip up North Africa and you're in Morocco. 'An Morocco is a short hop by boat to Spain. My hunch tells me we're lookin' at a sex ring here, human trafficking of young black girls, an' Hofton's place is where it all comes together!"

He sat back, exhausted, Harry desperate to hug him and calm him down.

"Sir, would you excuse me for a moment." she said, hopping out of the car before Spikings could stop her and knowing instinctively what Dempsey's next suggestion was going to be.

She walked back into the cafe and called Alf over, discreetly showing him her badge, whilst putting her fingers to her lips.

"Have you a telephone I can use, Alf?".she asked, quietly.

"Yeah, round the back. Follow me." he replied and showed her into a small, untidy office.

"'Scuse the mess." he said, brushing all manner of paperwork aside, eventually exposing the telephone.

"Thanks." said Harry, waiting for him to go back to his counter, then dialling a number.

"Lord Winfield's residence." came the familiar voice of Abbott.

"Abbott." said Harry.

"Miss Harriet, hello."

"Hello Abbott, is my father available?"

"I believe so. He's on his exercise bicycle."

"Well, could you fetch him please, it's rather urgent"

"One moment, Miss Harriet."

She waited for what seemed like hours, but in reality only a couple of minutes.

"Harry my darling." said Freddy, panting slightly. "Something the matter?"

"I need a favour Freddy." she said. "Could you ring Aunt Alice and find out if she knows when Sir Marcus is due to fly out to Spain next. Much as I love her, I don't want to call, I'll only get bogged down in all sorts. I'll buzz you back in ten minutes."

"No need for that Harry. I'll call her from my other 'phone, it's right here. Hang on a tick."

She heard him dial and then speak.

"Alice?" he said. "It's Freddy. Are you alone? Oh good. Now Alice my dear, no need for alarm, but would you know when Marcus is going to Spain next?. Ah, good. Now remember what I said about keeping things to yourself. Okay dear? Thanks, be in touch, bye for now."

"Harry?"

"Yes Daddy."

"This coming weekend. Anything I can do?"

"No Freddy, thanks, you're a brick. Must go. Love you, kisses."

She walked back to the car, the expression in her eyes akin to a nod at Dempsey.

"Chief. Makepeace and I need to go out to Spain, locate Hofton's house and snoop around. If I'm right we'll find a bunch of paedo's and pimps out there lookin' to buy young negresses."

"And then what, Lieutenant?" asked Spikings. "You won't have any back up and if you're caught it'd be a tough operation to get you out of there, especially if our cuckoo gets to hear about it."

"First of all, _no-one _must know we've gone. Not even Chas." said Dempsey. "We'll need some high powered, infrared binoculars and thermographic camera's. The idea'll be to get as much photographic evidence as we can, people, car reg numbers, anything that can be used as proof. Oh, and just to be on the safe side, false identities and passports. We have no idea what access our cuckoo has to sensitive info. He might smell a rat when Makepeace an' I don't show in the office after a day or two, so you'll have to come up with a reason for that."

"Don't want much do you, Dempsey." said Spikings.

"Sir." said Harry, ignoring him. "I've just had it confirmed via my Aunt, that Sir Marcus is flying out to Spain this coming weekend. Can you get the things we'll need in time? It's Tuesday today. We must to be there by tomorrow night at the latest, which will still only give us a day to find the property and stake it out. We can't risk leaving it another month. Not with our security breached."

"Okay, you've convinced me. I'll get everything you need by early afternoon today, so book yourselves on a flight tonight, that'll give you an extra day." said Spikings. "I'll be the only one who'll know where you are and I'll come up with a reason as to why you're out of the office."

"Thanks Chief." said Dempsey. "I don't s'pose it's lost on you, that the cuckoo will now know that we're aware he exists. I think the only way to keep him off our backs is for you to make it known we've been taken off the case and moved to another."

"I've already thought of that, Dempsey." said Spikings. "And so far as the team are concerned, you two have been seconded to Royal duties. And those remain secret even to SI-10! And while you're away, I'm going to personally check each and every one of the SI-10 team's histories."

"Yeah, 'cos Hofton or Sir Marcus have somethin' on him, either a debt or somethin' from his past." said Dempsey.

"Yes Lieutenant." replied Spikings, glaring at him. "Why do you think I'm going to do it!"

"Come on Dempsey." said Harry, before Spikings really let rip at him. "We need to sort ourselves out. Where shall we meet you, sir?"

"I'll come to you. Where will you be?"

"My house?" she said, looking at them both, eyebrows raised for effect.

"Three thirty." said Spikings.

Later that afternoon, at Jimmy Hofton's mansion on The Bisops Avenue, Sir Marcus was a bag of nerves and had already consumed several glasses of gin and tonic.

"Marcus, me old son." said Jimmy, stroking the naked thigh of his black mistress who was sitting on his knee, dressed in nothing but a near transparent night gown. "Stop yer worryin'. No-one can identify the little whore, can they. Your man Wilson seen to that. There's a new lot comin' in this weekend, so you'll soon 'ave anuvver little playmate, won't cha."

"If he'd done a better job of burying the little bitch, she'd never have been found." said Sir Marcus, taking another long draught of his drink.

"What 'appened anyway?" asked Hofton. "Why'd you kill 'er?"

"She got pregnant! Stupid little whore!" spat Sir Marcus. "I'd just finished with her then she just lay there and told me she was going to have my child."

"Well yer didn't have to strangle 'er, Marcus." said Jimmy. "We'd have terminated it for yer, yer know that."

"I lost my temper!" he shouted.

"Now now Marcus, old boy." said Hofton, sharply. "Keep yer bleedin' 'air on, yer know I don't like shoutin' round me."

"No, er I'm sorry Jimmy."

"That's better, my son." he replied. "Now, you all set for Spain then?"

Just then the telephone, next to him on a small table, shrilled for his attention.

"'Ello?" he answered, holding the phone away as a series of beeps rattled out of the receiver. "Oh it's you. What yer want?" He listened. "'Ave they now, well that's good init." He listened once more. "What? Now you listen to me, you piece of shite. They may know there's a grass amongst 'em now, so you'd better be double careful, otherwise I'll see to it you'll be sleepin' with the fishes, mate. Know what I mean, son?"

He slammed the 'phone down.

"That was our dick'ed. Them two detectives, Makepeace and Dempsey, been moved to Royal duties. You won't 'ave no more trouble from them two, Marcus, my boy. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off for some afternoon delight."

And with that he stood up, his mistress draped around him and walked out of the room.

By four o'clock, Dempsey and Harry had their false passports and identities, binoculars and cameras. Dempsey then booked open ended, first class return seats on a British Airways flight out of Heathrow to Malaga, leaving at seven that night and a car on arrival, hired for one week.

Finally he telephoned the Marbella Beach Club Hotel and reserved two inter-connecting double rooms overlooking the Meditteranean sea.

Although they were the ultimate professionals, on a working trip and having to be extra careful, they couldn't help but feel some excitement at travelling abroad together to a holiday resort for the first time since becoming a couple.

They parked Dempsey's car in the short stay car park at Heathrow and made their way to the BA check-in desk, travelling as Charlotte Buckingham and Jonny Andretti.

Once in the departure lounge, they sat at one of several bars and ordered some drinks, Harry a dry Martini, Dempsey a Jack Daniels on the rocks.

"You're excited aren't you, honey." said Dempsey, smiling at her.

"Yes I am, darling." she replied, smiling back, her eyes sparkling. "And why shouldn't I be? I know we're on a potentially dangerous mission and that's the downside, but the upside is we're together, on our own abroad where we'll, at least, have some time to enjoy each other - I hope."

"We'll make time, angel." he said, pulling her to him and kissing her lips.

"Mmmm, we don't start work again until tomorrow morning." she said, putting her arms round his neck and kissing him back. "So we've got a warm Spanish night to enjoy."

Their flight was called and left right on time, delivering them to Malaga just under two and a half hours later.

Adjusting their watches to an hour ahead, they eventually retrieved their cases, cleared customs, picked up the hire car and arrived at the hotel just before midnight.

Having checked in, they then decided to sample the night life and, having eaten on the plane, just wanted a suitable place to enjoy a bottle of red wine.

Nights in Spain don't get fully under way until ten o'clock at the earliest, so they took a taxi to Puerto Banus, just a few kilometres away and soaked up the atmosphere, the place full of people enjoying their meals in the open air and the bars humming with life.

They headed for 'Sinatra's Bar', recommended to Harry, she remembered, by friends and ordered an expensive bottle of Rioja.

A little later, they strolled along the front looking at the spectacular yachts moored there, Dempsey with his arm round Harry's waist, her head resting on his shoulder, until she whispered that she was ready for bed.

A taxi took them to their hotel and, once in their bedroom, against a backdrop of an occasional swell followed by a crashing wave, they made slow, sensual love to each other.

The next day dawned bright and hot and they had work to do.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7.**

The next morning, having showered and dressed, Harry in white shorts, a pale pink tee shirt and sandals, Dempsey in jeans, a white tee shirt and trainers, they made their way to the breakfast terrace, already feeling the heat of the sun on their skin, even though it was still only eight 'oclock.

After they had enjoyed a traditional Spanish breakfast, Harry choosing _magdalenas_ (lemon flavoured cupcakes) and Dempsey, _churros_ (lightly fried dough similar to a doughnut, topped with honey), both meals complimented by _cafe con leche_ ( sweet milky coffee), Dempsey took a map of the Costa del Sol from his pocket and spread it on the table in front of them, skewing it slightly so they could both look at it at the same time.

"Now, Aunt Alice said she thought the mansion was at a place beginning with 'san' and it was near here." remembered Harry, finding Marbella and tracing the coastline with her eyes.

"There!" said Dempsey, pointing to a spot on the map. "San Pedro, it's only a few kilometres away."

"Yes that must be it." agreed Harry. "There isn't another place beginning with 'san' anywhere close."

"Ok, angel." said Dempsey. "We'll get our equipment and go recce the area. Presumably there ain't many big mansions 'round there."

The car's interior was already hotting up, but thankfully it was fitted with air conditioning, so before long the cabin was cool.

"Aren't you baking in those jeans?" asked Harry, looking quizzically at him from behind her Armani designer sunglasses.

"Nah!" replied Dempsey, chuckling, pulling his Ray-Bans from his forehead to the bridge of his nose. "You ever been in New York in the summer? This place is cool by comparison!"

Just ten minutes later they were cruising through San Pedro.

"Pretty hick place." remarked Dempsey, looking from side to side. "There's nothing to it, except for a few buildings fronting the road."

"No there's more, Dempsey." said Harry. "Turn right here."

He did as she suggested and soon they were in the heart of the town, already bustling and busy, its narrow streets bordered either side by rows of shops, intermingled with cafe's, restaurants, bistro's and bars, many shaded by fruit bearing orange trees

"There ain't no mansion here, princess." said Dempsey. "Guess we'll drive through and head into the countryside."

Soon they'd left the town behind, the road now flanked by olive and lemon groves, the odd outbuilding visible amongst them and, in the distance, a mountain rose into the hot, blue sky, its side peppered with cork trees and evergreen oaks.

Eventually the road led them upwards and into a forest of Spanish pine trees, Dempsey slowing down, allowing them to look left and right, their eyes searching for anything that might hint at a hidden house.

They passed a single track lane leading up the mountainside to the right and Harry, glancing up it as they coasted by, suddenly gripped Dempsey's arm.

"Stop Dempsey!" she called out.

"What is it, honey?" he asked, halting the car.

"I've just seen some large wooden gates." she replied. "But I can't be sure there isn't CCTV covering them."

"Ok, describe what you saw." he instructed.

"The lane has high hedgerows either side, the gates are double fronted, look about ten feet high and span the entire width of the road. I'd say they are about three hundred feet along the road."

"And you didn't spot a camera?"

"No Dempsey!" she said, forcefully. "What have I got, X ray vision!?"

"Okay cool it angel, you're doin' good." he chuckled, taking hold of her hand.

"Sorry darling." she said, gripping it. "I'm just a tad nervous we'll be seen."

"I guess we'd best not risk takin' a closer look here." he said. "I reckon we might get a better view from higher up, what do you think?"

"Yes, it's worth a try." she replied.

They motored on, the road getting steeper as they went, the tall pine trees towering majestically above them, shading the area from the burning sun until suddenly they burst into daylight, the open ground covered spasmodically with thorny, bushy vegetation.

Travelling a little further, they reached a ridge and as it fell away in front of them, they suddenly gasped at the vista spread before them.

Dempsey parked the car, both of them stepping out to survey the breathtaking panorama.

Stretching ahead and to their right, for as far as the eye could see, were the magnificent Andalucian mountains, looking purple in colour, glimmering in the sunlight and to their left, the blue Meditteranean, sparkling in the distance.

Forgetting for a moment their mission, they stood with their arms around each others waist, gazing at the awesome sight.

Shaking themselves out of it, they collected their binoculars and, adjusting their sense of direction, began sweeping the area below them, the powerful magnification bringing the view so close, they felt they could reach out and touch it.

Both soon found what they were looking for.

"I spy with my little eye..." said Dempsey.

"Something beginning with M..." answered Harry, her sunglasses perched on the crown of her head.

"That's gotta be it, hasn't it?" he said. "There's nothin' else in sight!"

"No." agreed Harry. "It's huge!"

"Gotta be twenty thousand square feet at least." remarked Dempsey.

"Is that a path running along the back of it?" asked Harry.

Dempsey adjusted his glasses and focussed once more, finding the same path as Harry.

"Yep, looks like it."

"I don't see any sign of activity, do you?" said Harry.

"Nope. Looks quiet as a church in the middle of the week."

They lowered their glasses and looked at each other, knowingly.

"I'm game if you are, honey, but we ain't got our weapons with us." he warned.

"Tonight or now?" she asked, ignoring the warning.

"No time like the present, princess." he said, retrieving his sunglasses from the neck of his tee shirt and putting them on.

Fetching his camera, Dempsey took a few shots of the mansion and its grounds, then got back in the car.

They retraced their steps, looking closely for signs of the path they'd seen through the binoculars and eventually arrived back at the lane governing the entrance to the mansion, obviously having missed it.

Dempsey was careful to stop before passing the entrance, not wanting to be picked up by any CCTV cameras.

"If we assume the house is through those gates." he said. "Then the path can't be too far away, can it."

"That all depends upon how long the driveway is and whether the house is exactly as the crow flies, Dempsey." said Harry, incredulously.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just gettin' my bearin's again, Harry." answered Dempsey, sighing. "Sheesh, you are tense. I think we'd best hide the wheels and look on foot. That path can't be far from here."

A little way back up the road, they found another small lane, Dempsey reversing the car into it and bringing it to rest around one hundred yards away from the main road.

Grabbing their cameras they walked up the road, keeping the mansion on their right and soon enough, a small path was visible through the bushes.

"Guess shorts were the wrong idea, princess." said Dempsey, looking at how narrow and overgrown the path looked.

"I didn't know we'd be breaking and entering, did I!" answered Harry, tetchily. "No matter, let's get on with it!"

Dempsey began rooting around in the undergrowth, eventually bringing out a thick, sturdy looking branch, about two and a half feet long.

Grinning at her, he held it up. "This'll save those great legs of yours, honey."

Harry couldn't help laughing, her tension lightening, her eyes softening and heart lifting, both full of love. 'Where _does_ he get that power to relax me?' she thought.

"My knight!" she said, then pointing ahead. "Shall we go, Lancelot?"

Dempsey went first, beating back the undergrowth for Harry, until they reached a wooden fence, about eight feet in height.

Bending down and cupping his hands, Dempsey said. "Ok princess, step on these and have look over the top."

Slipping her sandals off, she climbed onto his hands and reached for the top of the fence, steadying herself with it.

"Bit more Dempsey." she called.

He lifted her higher.

"Okay, that's enough."

"Whaddya see?"

"Lots of lawn, a few trees, big pool, garden furniture, barbeque, usual stuff but it all looks definitely empty."

"Any cameras?"

"Ah." she said, scanning the house and gardens closely. " Er, no, none. How odd."

He let her down slowly, she dropping to the ground, keeping her arms round his neck, then kissing him.

"Couldn't resist!" she smiled, putting on her sandals.

"No CCTV?" said Dempsey

"No, not that I could see." confirmed Harry. "Unless it's very carefully hidden, I don't think there is any."

"If you think about it, angel, would Jimmy Hofton want video footage of young girls being brought here? And I guess he thinks this place is sufficiently hidden away that nobody'll find it. Add to that his reputation and he probably reckons he's safe enough."

"Let's hope you're right!"

"Okay." he said. "Now we gotta find a way in."

"Dempsey, once we're in, if we're in, what exactly are we looking for?"

"Hoftons study or office. If there's anything going to incriminate him, it'll be in there, don't ya think?"

She nodded her agreement.

They began walking along the path again, Dempsey pulling at the wooden slats that made up the fence, testing how secure they were. One of them suddenly came loose at the bottom, so he bent down for closer inspection.

Each slat appeared to be nailed at the top, middle and bottom, to corresponding horizontal beams that made up the fences skeleton, but pull away the last two and it would hinge on the top nail.

He moved it sideways, like a pendulum, exposing a small space. Grabbing another next to it, he gave it a tug, the same space emerging in the same way. He repeated the same to two more, eventually leaving an area big enough to climb through.

"Ok princess, we're into the garden." he said, resting his stick against the fence. "The house next."

They clambered through, Dempsey quickly swinging each slat vertical again, and swiftly made their way to the mansion, running over the lawns, along the side of the pool and passing what appeared to be a pool house and changing rooms.

Suddenly the sound of an engine broke the silence.

"Quick!" said Dempsey. "This way!"

Harry ran with him to the pool house, then round to the back of it.

They were completely out of sight now, breathing hard, beads of sweat on Dempsey's brow, perspiration beginning to soak their tee shirts as their heart rates slowed and returned to normal.

After a few minutes, they heard the sound of music, puzzled for a moment, until they recognised it as a transistor radio, playing Spanish songs. Dempsey sneaked a look round the edge of the pool house wall and saw a young lad, roughly nineteen, come walking towards him.

He quickly ducked back behind it, putting his forefinger to his lips and grabbing Harry's hand. She gripped it, tightly.

Detecting the sound of a key going into a lock, the kid humming along to the music, they listened as he rattled around inside the small building, eventually hearing the door slam and his singing recede.

Dempsey risked another peek.

The young lad was busy sweeping the pool with a brush attached to a long pole, slowly dragging it back and forth through the water and singing to the music emanating from his radio.

"He's cleaning the friggin' pool!" whispered Dempsey, the exasperated look on his face causing Harry to stifle a chuckle.

Some minuted later, the radio was snapped off and, following a clatter of something falling to the ground, silence reigned once more.

Dempsey peered round again, noting the brush disgarded at the poolside and the boy walking towards the main house with his back to him. Fishing around in his pocket the lad drew out a bunch of keys and, after fiddling with a few, found the one that opened a door, disappearing inside.

"Come on!" urged Dempsey, both of them making for the same door. Reaching it they stopped, Dempsey slowly entering, alert to the sudden appearance of the pool cleaner.

Signalling with his hand, he gestured for Harry to follow him in. They were in a laundry room, twin sinks on one wall, three washing machines and two tumble dryers opposite.

They sidled towards an open archway, which led into a vast kitchen area, and looking around cautiously once again, their ears straining for any hint of sound, they swiftly made for a door which led them into the main hallway, a huge staircase and galleried landing dominating the area.

"Where the hell is he!?" whispered Harry.

"No idea!" replied Dempsey, looking quickly around the hall and making for a door. It opened into a dining room. They tried another, this time an immense lounge greeted them.

The third one was locked.

"Bingo!" he whispered, pulling a set of lock picks out of his jeans pocket and working on the door.

Suddenly they heard whistling from above.

"For God's sake hurry up Dempsey!" whispered Harry. "That's him. He's probably been nosing around."

"Yeah, I know how he feels!" answered Dempsey, then hearing a click. "Ah, got it! Quick, inside!"

Once in the study, he silently closed the door again, both of them listening.

They heard the boy pass the door, still humming and whistling an unintelligible song, the sound gradually getting fainter.

"Right Harry." he said. "So far so good. Look at anything you think might be useful and use your camera."

She started sifting through various paperwork on the large, oak desk, whilst Dempsey got to work again on the drawers, each one locked and each one, when opened, revealing nothing he found incriminating.

Until the last drawer.

Inside were several VHS recording tapes, each one labelled with a date.

"These might be something." said Dempsey, taking a photo of each date on each tape. "We'd better just take one with us, it may show us something, Hopefully it won't be missed. Come on angel, let's get outta here, pronto!"

They made for the door, Dempsey opening it slowly, listening once again for any sound.

Silence.

They quickly retraced their steps, back through the hall, into the kitchen, then the laundry room.

The door leading out to the patio and pool was closed - and locked.

Daring not to pick the lock and open the door only to find the boy the other side, Dempsey looked around, spying a small window about two feet above him.

Cupping his hands once more, Harry kicked off her sandals and reached up for the small window ledge, as Dempsey lifted her towards it.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Yes okay." she replied, grabbing the ledge and peering through the glass. "It looks as though he's packing up and leaving. Okay, he's just shutting up the pool house."

Dempsey gently lowered her back to the floor, both of them hearing the radio switch on, the music coming closer, passing them and getting fainter.

They waited a further five minutes, then Dempsey got to work with his lock picks again, the door finally swinging open.

Listening intently, there was no sound.

They quickly ran back across the lawns to the fence, Dempsey swinging the four slats to one side, both slipping through easily again.

Restoring the fence once more, he picked up his stick and beat a path back to the road, where finally, they reached the car.

"Lunch, honey?" asked Dempsey, starting it up. "You hungry?"

"Ravenous!" she answered. "Let's find a nice little bistro in San Pedro, shall we? There seemed to be plenty when we drove through earlier."

"You bet, princess!"

They drove back into the town, managing to find a parking place and strolled through the centre, eventually discovering an attractive looking bistro, it's dining area covered with myrtle, rosemary and arbutus undergrowth fashioned as a roof and keeping the area shaded and cool.

A bottle of Rioja, recommended by Alberto, the owner, was quick to arrive, along with a basket of fresh bread rolls, and a carafe of water. Both of them savoured the delicious wine and feasted on salad for Harry, soup for Dempsey as a starter, followed by fish for her, pasta for him, and a dessert of fresh fruit, with coffee to finish.

"The room has a video player hasn't it?" asked Harry, sipping her coffee.

"Yeah it has. I guess we oughta see what we've got." answered Dempsey, lighting a cigar. "An' hope all that this mornin's effort wasn't wasted, huh."

"Hmmm, well _it is _approaching siesta time, darling." she said, her blue eyes unmistakeable in their meaning.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again." said Dempsey, reaching across and taking her hand, his eyes matching hers. "You are a minx, Harriet Makepeace, and I must be the luckiest guy on this planet!"

He beckoned Alberto over, asking for the bill and paid, leaving a sizeable tip, seeing as they'd been well looked after.

"Sank you, sank you." he said, looking at Dempsey. "You a very lucky man, senor, she a beautiful, beautiful laydee."

"Yeah." he said, looking at her, sitting opposite him, glowing. "She sure is Alberto."

They found their car, drove back to the Marbella Beach Club and once reaching their rooms, were unable to keep their hands off each other, the tension and adrenalin of the mornings danger fuelling their libido's, the earlier excitement transposed into unbridled passion.

Later, after showering and dressing, Dempsey having raided the mini-bar, they sat on their balcony, Harry sipping a dry Martini, he with his favourite bourbon and smoking a cigar.

"I guess before we go lookin' for somewhere's to eat, angel, we'd better take a look at that video."

"Okay." she said, hesitatingly.

"What's the matter, honey?" he asked, noting her hesitation.

"I've got a horrible feeling I know what we'll see." she said, her eyes betraying her concern.

"You don't have to look, angel." he said, stubbing out the cigar in an ashtray. "I ain't bein' funny, but you don't have to."

"No, I know." she answered. "It's okay, put it on."

They went inside, where he switched on the TV and pushed the cassette into the video player.

The screen at first was blank, then the images flickered on, showing a line of young black girls, scantily dressed, a bright spotlight trained on them, as they were paraded before a group of men shrouded in darkness, watching the girls walking in a circle. After the girls had completed several tours, they disappeared behind a curtain.

Harry had her hand in front of her mouth, her eyes wide with horror.

A few seconds later, one young girl emerged from behind the curtain, completely naked and sobbing.

"Oh my God, look at her. " whispered Harry, clutching Dempsey. "she can't be more than eleven or twelve!"

Dempsey's mouth was dry with anger as he watched an overweight man, beckon the girl over to him, slapping her face, then fondling her.

"Turn it off, Dempsey!" cried Harry. "We don't need to see any more!"

He flicked off the TV, both of them staring at the blank screen, speechless.

He put his arm around her, comforting her as the tears began coursing down her cheeks.

He held her close, silent, as she sobbed her heart out, eventually lifting her face and kissing away her tears.

She clung to him, her body gradually relaxing, her tears gradually subsiding.

"We're gonna get those bastards, Harry." his voice a growl from deep within. "We're gonna get 'em and expose 'em for the sick scum they are!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8.**

It took a while for Harry to gather herself together, restore her equilibrium and begin to factor out her emotions.

Dempsey, of course, was there every step of the way, comforting her, reassuring her and eventually calming her.

They were standing on their balcony, a cool breeze in their faces, watching gentle waves break on the beach a few feet away.

"I'm sorry, James." she said, her blue eyes still glistening with shed tears.

"Hey, what you apologizin' for, honey?" he replied, hugging her to him. "You may be a tough, feisty lady, but in there beats a pure heart and I love you for it."

She put her arm round his waist and rested her head on his shoulder, pushing the images from the video to the back of her mind, her demeanour becoming positive once more.

"Shall we eat in the hotel tonight, darling?" she asked, quietly. "The restaurant overlooks the beach and the menu's supposed to be one of the best in Marbella."

"Sure angel." he replied. "You got your appetite back?"

"Yes, I could eat something now." she said.

"That's my girl." he said, kissing her.

Having locked the video cassette away in the room's safe, they made their way to the hotel's restaurant and reserved a table for two, opting to have cocktails at the bar, before taking their seats.

Sipping her dry Martini, Harry asked. "What are our plans for tomorrow?"

"I guess we should go back to the mansion gates and find somewhere to hide outta sight, 'cos on Friday night I expect the scumbags'll start arrivin', an' we need to snap 'em for identification." replied Dempsey.

"And then?" asked Harry, sensing there was more.

"And then, princess, I want to take a trip to Cadiz." he announced, taking a slug of bourbon.

"Why?"

"'Cos I reckon it's around there they boat the girls in. I had another look at the map, and there's a place near Cadiz called Tarifa, right on the southernmost tip of Spain. I dunno, it's just a hunch, but if we can get a feel for the beaches round there, we may get lucky."

"What do you mean, 'get lucky'" asked Harry. "Dempsey what are you planning?"

"The girls must come in at night, okay? Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"Okay. So they ain't gonna arrive at the same time as the slimeballs, 'cos that lot'll be turnin' up durin' Friday, yeah?"

"Yes."

"Right, so it stands to reason the girls'll come in Saturday night and get bussed over to Hofton's place, ready for the auctions to begin during Sunday. If we can get pics of them arrivin' by boat and bein' transferred, we got ourselves a bunch of evidence."

"Okay, it sounds feasible." agreed Harry, shivering a little at the mention of the auction. "But there's one thing bothering me."

"What's that angel?"

"How are we going to photograph, clearly, just who turns up on Friday?" she asked. "All we're going to see are various cars driving up to the gates and disappearing through them. They'll probably be hired cars, so we'd be none the wiser."

"We'll get the registration numbers. From those we can find the hire companies, then we put some heat on 'em to tell us who the cars were rented to."

"I think that's fraught with problems, Dempsey." she cautioned. "For one thing, we don't know whether the hire company, or companies, are connected to Hofton and for another, he may have the local police in his pocket, so trying to put pressure anywhere could backfire on us."

"Yeah, okay, point taken." he said, rubbing his chin. "But it's still worth gettin' the shots. You never know, someone might be usin' their own car. Either way, photo's may come in useful."

"Okay, but you know what, Dempsey?" she said, finishing her drink. "Something else has just struck me."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"We're assuming this scum are arriving by car." she said. "What if they come in by helicopter?"

"Hey, princess, that's a very good question!"

"Do you know what I think, Dempsey?" she said. "After we've checked the area out for a suitable hiding place, I think we should eat again at Alberto's."

"Yeah, he did us a great meal." he agreed, taking a final draught of whisky.

"Yes he did." replied Harry. "But wouldn't it be worth asking him if he's seen helicopters flying around at all?"

"Now that's a great idea, honey." he said, leaning across and kissing her lips. "If that works out, then we could watch from that ridge we were on this mornin' and take snaps of whoever's flown in. Our cameras are infra red and definitely powerful enough with their telescopic lenses from that distance."

"Exactly!"

"Princess, you're brilliant!" he exclaimed, then grinning, said. "Allow me to buy you dinner."

He took her hand and escorted her to their table, where the wonderful meal, delicious wine and beautiful warm, starry night acted as an antidote to the poison they'd witnessed on the video.

They fell into bed later, tired and a little drunk and were asleep within minutes.

The next day dawned as the previous one had - blue sky, fierce sun and blisteringly hot.

Harry had ditched her shorts in favour of jeans, seeing as she might be required to crawl around in the undergrowth during their search for a suitable hidey hole. She was less than happy about it, but was resigned to needs must.

Having finished breakfast, they were off and away by eight-thirty, arriving outside Hofton's mansion gates by nine-fifteen.

Reversing the car into the same narrow lane as before, they walked to the driveway entrance and inspected the hedgerow opposite, discovering it was an abundance of Spanish 'stopper', with soft green leaves providing excellent camourflage.

"I'll get in amongst this lot, Harry," said Dempsey, parting the foliage and crawling in. "You watch to see how well I'm covered."

Very soon he'd disappeared.

"No, can't see you at all." called Harry, then giggled as just his grinning face suddenly peered out at her from amongst the bushes.

"Fool!" she laughed.

"Ok, good." he said, still grinning. "Guess you'd better see for yourself angel. Come on in, there's room for two."

Harry climbed in beside him, the branches and leaves closing round them.

"Seems good enough, doesn't it." she said, surprised as to how much space they were able to create.

"Yep, this'll do us fine." confirmed Dempsey. "Okay, let's go check out those beaches."

It was just over ninety-two kilometres to Tarifa, but with the road pretty clear of traffic, the journey took no more than an hour.

They pulled into a car park area first of all and discovered Tarifa's main attraction.

Windsurfing.

Being right on the cusp of where the Atlantic meets the Straits of Gibralter, the wind was exceptionally strong, whipping the sea into waves that rolled in, one after the other like an invading army, a constant attack of tumbling water crashing onto the white, sandy beach.

They stood for a minute or two, watching the many surfers ride the waves, most standing, balanced perfectly on their boards, hands expertly guiding their multi-coloured sails into the lee of the blustering wind and skimming fast across the surface until finally gliding majestically to a halt on the beach, before wading and then swimming back into the surf.

"Spectacular isn't it." said Harry, smiling at all the fun before her eyes.

"Can you do that?" asked Dempsey.

"I've never tried." she replied. "But I can ski, so yes, maybe. You?"

"Yeah. Spent many a happy summer in Miami or the Florida Keys, when I was just a carefree teenager." he sighed. "Anyway angel, this ain't the place we're looking for, too exposed."

They returned to the car and headed out onto the main coast road again, the ocean on their left, and motored slowly, searching for a clue, any clue, that might suggest a secluded beach.

And they would have missed it, had it not been for a brightly painted VW camper van, several surfboards strapped to its roof, turning round in the road and using the entrance to a narrow looking sandy path as its reversing point.

Dempsey flashed his headlamps, indicating for the colourful vehicle to complete its manoeuvre, both he and Harry smiling at the many tanned young teenagers waving their thanks, as they roared back up the road towards Tarifa.

He parked the car at the side of the road, both of them getting out and walking back to the path.

"This looks interesting honey." remarked Dempsey, studying the pathway. "I reckon that's wide enough for a car to get along, whaddya think?"

"Well let's not try it just yet." cautioned Harry. "We don't want to get bogged down in the sand."

"Okay, let's walk it then."

They strolled down the path, which, after around thirty feet, suddenly widened, the vegetation either side looking flattened and broken.

"I think we may have found what we're looking for, honey." he said, pointing to, what were clearly tyre tracks in the sand.

"I think you could be right, Dempsey." agreed Harry.

They walked on and arrived at a small, secluded beach.

"Jackpot!" said Dempsey, excitedly. "This has gotta be the place, Harry, it's a smugglers paradise!"

"We need to find a place where we can get a clear view without being seen." said Harry, looking round, then pointing to a small sand dune just visible amongst the vegetation. "Ah there!"

They forced their way through the undergrowth and lay down on their stomachs in the dune, a perfect view of the beach ahead of them.

"Great!" said Dempsey. "I think this calls for a celebration, angel. How's about that lunch at Alberto's?"

"Yes darling." she said. "I'll be ready for that by the time we get there."

They walked back to the car and, an hour or so later were strolling into Alberto's bistro.

"Ah! Senor Andretti and 'is beautiful laydee." said Alberto, clapping his hands in glee, a wide grin across his moustachioed mouth.

"Hello Alberto," said Dempsey. "Gotta bottle of your finest Rioja handy?"

"Always senor." he answered, and scurried away, returning seconds later, applying a corkscrew to the bottle, pulling the cork out with a satifying pop and pouring a sample into a glass in front of Dempsey, who gestured for him to simply fill their glasses.

They, once again, enjoyed a delicious lunch and, whilst Alberto was pouring the last of the wine, Dempsey asked the burning question.

"Alberto, tell me. Do you see many helicopters flying around here?"

"'Elicopters? si senor, sometimes." he said.

"Do they land or just fly past?" asked Harry.

"Fly past senorita." he answered. "But sometime they land. I've seen lights."

"Whereabouts have you seen lights, Alberto?" asked Dempsey.

"Ooh up in those mountains." he replied, pointing to the range where Hofton's mansion was.

Harry and Dempsey exchanged glances.

"You like cafe con leche?" asked Alberto.

"Yes, thank you Alberto." replied Harry. "One each please."

After he had gone, Dempsey leaned forward.

"Listen princess, here's the plan. Tomorrow night, we split up. I'll drop you off at the mansion gates an' you get yourself fully hidden in that hidin' place. Then, if some cars turn up, just snap every single one. I'll go on up to the top, an' if a chopper shows up, I'll be ready for it. Okay?"

"Okay." she agreed. "But we should be in place by early afternoon. We have no idea when the first of those perverts will arrive, have we."

"No true." agreed Dempsey, then carrying on. "On Saturday, we'll get down to that sand dune and wait for a boat. We'll have to be in there while its still daylight, 'cos there was no street lamps, so it'll be pitch black and impossible to find in the dark."

Alberto arrived with their coffees. Thanking him, Harry continued.

"Yes, I agree." she said, nodding, then asking."Had we better check in with Spikings? If nothing else, he might have found out who the cuckoo is."

"Yeah, but we ain't callin' him at SI-10." said Dempsey. "We'll get him at home tonight."

"So, what do we do now?" asked Harry sipping her drink. "We've laid our plans for tomorrow night and Saturday night."

"I guess we make the most of a little time off." grinned Dempsey. "Fancy a dip in the sea, then soakin' up the rays?"

They finished their coffees, thanked Alberto with another large tip and then motored back to the hotel, changing into swimwear and spending the rest of the day on the beach sunbathing and swimming in the sea.

By seven in the evening the sun was setting.

Dempsey got onto one elbow and looked down at Harry lying on her back next to him, her face lit by the sun, her eyes closed. He leaned down and kissed her lips.

"We missed our siesta." he whispered. Her eyes opened at the same time her arms went round his neck.

"Never too late," she whispered back.

They headed for the coolness of their bedroom..

Later, showered and dressed for dinner, Harry suggested they call Spikings. "It's ten o'clock in England. He should be home by now."

"Yeah okay." replied Dempsey, picking up the receiver from the bedside telephone, asking reception for an outside line, then dialling Spikings' number. Harry sat on the bed next to him.

"Hello?" answered a female voice.

"Hello? Mrs Spikings?"

"Yes this is she."

"Ah, good evening. This is Lieutenent Dempsey ma'am. Is the Chief there?"

"Oh yes Lieutenant. I'll just get him."

"Dempsey!?" came the loud, familiar voice.

"Yo Chief, how ya doin'"

"Never mind me, what have you and Makepeace been getting up to out there?"

'Wouldn't you like to know' he thought, then filled him in on what they'd discovered and their plans for the next two nights. "Any luck with the cuckoo, Chief?" he asked, finally.

"Absolutely sweet FA!" replied Spikings, angrily. "It's still a complete mystery, so we'd best continue talking in private like this, Dempsey. Is Makepeace alright?"

"Yeah she's fine Chief. She's here if you wanna word."

"No, no I'll believe you. Just so long as the two of you are getting along okay."

"Er yeah Chief. We're gettin' along just fine. Must be the weather, huh?"

"Yes, must be." he said, sounding unconvinced. "I presume you'll both be back on Sunday, then."

"Er yeah, guess we will Chief, if all goes to plan."

"Call me then." The phone went dead.

"He ain't no fool, ya know Harry." remarked Dempsey. "He must suspect there's more to our workin' relationship."

"If he does, I'm sure he won't be backward in coming forward." she replied. "And if he asks us outright, perhaps we should come clean."

"I'd rather keep 'im guessin'" smiled Dempsey, Harry returning his smile, but not totally sure she agreed with him. She'd been the one adamant they kept their intimacy a secret, but now she wasn't so sure it mattered any more.

They decided to dine again in Puerto Banus that night and the next morning spent a few hours on the beach.

Approaching midday, with the sun at its zenith, they returned to their room and prepared for the afternoon and evening to follow, once more going over their plans.

They'd elected to wear black, not the best colour for a hot climate, but since most of their work would be carried out in darkness, they had to remain as invisible as possible - and it would be cooler at night anyway.

They gathered together their equipment. Infra-red binoculars and cameras, telescopic lens attachments and a walkie-talkie each. Double checking the latter were tuned in to each other's wave length, they were ready.

Early afternoon saw them once more heading for the mansion gates, Harry crawling in amongst the Spanish 'stopper' and making herself as comfortable as possible, camera primed and ready. It was surprisingly cool in there, the thick foliage shading the interior from the heat of the sun.

Once Dempsey was totally satisfied that she was safely hidden, he blew her a kiss and drove up to the mountain top, parking the car amongst the trees, the open ground stretching in front of him.

Then they waited.

The afternoon passed without incident but as the sun set and dusk rapidly followed, Harry was suddenly alerted to the sound of an approaching vehicle, its headlamps lighting up the road before it.

She readied herself.

A small truck appeared, with two occupants, a passenger and driver. It drove up to the gates, Harry working the camera. A swathy looking individual got out and walked up to the gates, opening a small hatch on the side, exposing a dialling pad. He punched out a series of numbers, the gates swinging open, then jumped into the truck and drove through, the gates automatically closing a few seconds after he'd cleared them.

Switching on her walkie talkie, she called Dempsey.

"Dempsey, come in." she said quietly.

"Yo Harry" he replied. "What's cookin'?"

She described what she'd seen.

"Probably just openin' the place up angel." he suggested. "You okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." she replied. "Bit stiff, but otherwise alright. You?"

"I'm stiff too. Bored stiff!"

"A different kind of stiff then." she giggled.

"Minx!" came the reply.

Night time arrived swiftly, blackness taking over.

Time elapsed.

Harry looked at her watch, the illuminous hands reading ten o'clock.

Suddenly everything started happening at once.

Several cars began arriving, whilst the unmistakeable sound of spinning rotors rattled through the night air.

Whilst Harry snapped away endlessly, Dempsey ran from his car, having also picked up the sound of the approaching helicopter.

He positioned himself flat on the ground and trained his camera on the mansion lawns, the telescopic, infra-red lens picking up the detail perfectly.

As the chopper flew towards its destination, its warning lights blinking, a powerful spotlight suddenly beamed out from its nose, lighting up the grounds.

Dempsey snapped the helicopters identification code, written in large letters along its side, watching it hover then descend, slowly and gently to the lawns, continuously storing images in his camera.

Once on the ground, the rotors began to slow down, but not before a door opened, six people stepping out.

Dempsey began furiously photographing them, occasionly looking up and refocussing.

In his sights were two men he recognised instantly.

Jimmy Hofton and Sir Marcus Battersby-Thorpe.

"Got ya, you bastards!" he snarled.

Meanwhile Harry had recorded six cars registration numbers, all Spanish, save for one. It belonged to a white, stretched limo and its number plate was in Arabic.

It was the last car to disappear through the gates, silence descending except for the chorus of crickets, chirping their music.

Minutes later, she heard the helicopter as it took to the skies again, its nose dipping before speeding across the night sky.

Her walkie talkie bleeped.

"Harry?"

"Dempsey?"

"I'm comin' to getcha!"

He coasted down the hill, engine on tickover, stopping in front of her. She quickly alighted from her hiding place, jumping swiftly into the car, Dempsey continuing to coast until, feeling at a safe distance, he selected second gear and gunned the engine.

They arrived back at their hotel, elated and buzzing.

Changing into evening clothes, they made for the hotel bar, ordering their favourite drinks and carrying them to a table out in the open air.

Comparing notes they realised they'd got some excellent photos.

"Now, if we're as successful tomorrow night, angel, we'll have evidence that'll link all these images together and we'll be on our way to nailin' those perverted sonofabitches!" he scowled.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9.**

During the night, the weather changed.

A strong, cool wind blew in huge black clouds from the Atlantic, scudding fast across the night sky and delivering torrential rain, pre-empted by vivid shafts of lightning spearing into the sea, followed by crashing thunder that threatened to tear the heavens to shreds.

It woke Harry up.

She spooned into Dempsey, snuggling as close to him as possible, her arm across his stomach and listening to the rain as it battered the ground, watching the room illuminate suddenly as the lightning flashed, then counting down the seconds, doubling as miles.

Three seconds she counted, so three miles away, then two, then one, until the thunder exploded overhead, so loud it was as if it were in the room and targetting her personally.

Eventually the storm passed, the wind died down and she fell back to sleep.

Dempsey never stirred.

The next morning was bright and hot again, the sky azure blue and looking as though it had been washed clean.

"Did you hear that storm last night, Dempsey?" asked Harry, up on one elbow, looking down at his sleeping face, then kissing him as his eyes blinked open.

"What storm?" he muttered, closing his eyes again, but pursing his lips, waiting for another kiss..

"Dear God, Dempsey!" she replied, annoyed and ignoring him. "It was loud enough to wake the dead!"

"Must've been dead then, 'cos I heard nothin, angel." he replied, sleepily. "Anyways up, whatcha worryin' for?"

"I just hope that was the last of it." she said. "Because I, for one, don't fancy lying in that sand dune tonight, getting soaked!"

"Nah, me neither." he replied, still dozing and pursing his lips once more.

"Dempsey! Wake up!" she ordered, exasperated with him. "What if there is another storm and it stops the boat from coming in?"

That woke him up!

"Shoot!" he agreed, sitting bolt upright. "That'd screw our plans right up!"

"Yes, wouldn't it just!" she replied, but unable to hide a smirk at the bleary eyed look on his face and stifling a giggle at his tousled hair, some of it standing up straight.

But mulling it over in his mind, he flopped back down again. "Nah, they'll just use a bigger boat, that's all. No-one's gonna risk an aborted trip, not with such a tight schedule. Stop ya frettin' princess and kiss me again."

"Hmm, perhaps you're right." agreed Harry, unable to resist him, leaning down once more and kissing his ready lips. "Breakfast?"

They spent the morning and early afternoon enjoying the sea and sunshine, looking to all intents and purposes like a loved up couple on honeymoon, before retiring to their room and preparing for the coming vigil.

Dressed in black once more, including balaclavas and packing their guns this time, they slung the binoculars round their necks, together with the cameras and telescopic lenses and set off for the secluded beach near Tarifa.

Being Saturday, the traffic was heavier than before and the journey took the best part of two hours, they eventually reaching the narrow pathway by six o'clock.

Noticing several cars parked randomly offroad, Dempsey parked amongst them.

But before they could step out of the car, they suddenly heard the familiar sound of sirens and, looking back up the road, saw half a dozen green and white police cars, their blue rooftop lights spinning, come speeding towards them before screeching to a halt at the paths entrance.

Leaping out were the Spanish Guardia, Spains Civil Guard, dressed in their customary grey uniforms, guns in holsters strapped to their hips and peculiarly shaped black helmets on their heads.

Dempsey and Harry watched as they sprinted down the pathway, then looked at each other in puzzlement and waited to see what happened next.

After about ten minutes, several near naked adults emerged, all using various items of clothing to cover their modesty, although the women remained bare breasted, the Carabineros shouting at them and hustling them into their cars, whereby they all started up and began leaving.

Realising they would be the only car left and not wanting to draw attention to themselves, Dempsey followed them all until the police had all come screaming past the line of cars and disappeared into the distance.

Then he signalled, pulled over to the kerbside and turned to Harry.

"Huh, how about that, honey?" said Dempsey. "That lot were using the beach as a nudist colony!"

"Yes, but you'd think the Guardia would have arrested them all, wouldn't you?" she questioned. "Public nudity is illegal in this country, so why weren't they thrown into the back of Spains equivalent of a Black Maria?"

"You think they were just clearing the beach for tonights delivery?" asked Dempsey.

"Yes I do, don't you?"

"If you're right, then Hofton's tentacles spread right into the gendarmerie."

"Hmmm, don't they just! Are you surprised!?"

"No, I'm not. But let's pray they don't turn up later!" said Dempsey.

By now dusk was approaching fast and they had to get into position before darkness fell. He turned the car around and headed swiftly back to the paths entrance, parking well off the road, the car partially hidden by vegetation.

They made their way down the path and found the sand dune, settling in to it on their stomachs and making sure their equipment fell easily to hand.

Dempsey gathered armfuls of vegetation together and began covering Harry with it, then rounding up similar bundles near to him and throwing them over himself.

They pulled on their balaclavas, especially useful in hiding Harry's light blonde hair, as it would have been akin to a beacon in the blackness around them.

All they could do now was wait.

The weather appeared to be holding up, with no hint of another incoming storm, the night sky awash with stars, the full moon throwing its dull, pale shadow over the beach, the water shimmering in its beam and the soft sound of the sea's swell before landing a gentle wave, reaching their alert ears.

Several hours passed until, approaching midnight, things began to happen.

First of all they detected an engine out to sea, soon eclipsed by a louder one travelling down the path towards them.

Lying stock still, they waited as a truck, its loading area covered by a canvas hood, trundled slowly past, Dempsey immediately snapping its registration number as it headed onto the beach.

Minutes later, a boat hove into view and ran right up onto the sand, Harry busy with her binoculars, Dempsey with his camera.

Suddenly, screaming, shouting and crying could be heard as at least ten young black girls were bundled out of the boat, those that tripped being hauled to their feet and beaten mercilessly with batons, some kicked with booted feet whilst still on the ground.

"Oh dear God!" whispered Harry, Dempsey emitting a low growl.

They contained their horror and anger and kept taking continuous photo's of the appalling scene unfolding before their eyes.

Sobbing and whimpering the girls were finally loaded into the back of the truck, which then executed an about turn, headed back to the path and up to the main road, Dempsey and Harry lying perfectly still, holding their breath as it passed just a few feet from them.

At the same time , the boat was pushed back into the water and piloted back out to sea, disappearing as fast as it had originally appeared, it's activity once more captured on film.

"Harry." whispered Dempsey. "We've gotta get ahead of that truck and beat it to the gates 'cos we need snaps of it entering the mansion!"

"Okay, it should be on its way by now, so lets' go!" she answered.

They quickly gathered together all the equipment and ran back up the path to the road, slowing deliberately to make sure it was clear.

Satisfied, they sprinted to the car, Dempsey starting it up almost before Harry had closed her door and took off after the truck.

They soon caught it up and passed it, Dempsey resisting the urge to accelerate away, but gradually increased his speed until the trucks headlights could no longer be seen in his mirrors.

As they approached the mansion gates, he slowed down to a crawl, both of them praying they weren't being guarded, or had one of Hofton's heavies waiting for the trucks arrival.

All appeared quiet, Dempsey reverse parking the car into the same lane as before.

"You stay here, Harry." he whispered. "No need for the two of of us in that hidey hole. Lock the doors when I've gone. Soon as I've got the snaps we'll hightail it outta here, okay?"

"Okay, be careful."

Grabbing his camera, he quickly ran to the road, then up to the hiding place opposite the gates, scrambling in amongst the 'stopper' and getting comfortable.

Forty minutes later, the truck could be heard crawling up the hill, its engine a high pitched whine in tune with its high gear, its headlamps searching the road.

It swung into the entrance and up to the gates, suddenly blasting its horn three times. Dempsey busied himself with the camera, gritting his teeth and ignoring the sobs and occasional scream from the back of the truck, accentuated by loud smacks and a male's salacious grunting.

The gates opened, the truck disappeared, the gates closing again seconds later.

Silence followed, except for the crickets.

Dempsey quickly crawled out and sprinted back to the car, Harry waiting anxiously for him, relief clear in her eyes, unlocking the doors as he approached.

"Ok, we're done!" he panted, as he jumped in, letting the handbrake off and allowing the car to coast down to the road.

Starting the engine, he drove them back to the hotel where they changed into suitable evening wear and went to the open air bar fronting the beach, their adrenalin high from the tension, but their mood a mixture of horror at what they'd witnessed again, yet elation at a successful conclusion to the mission.

"It's far from over, honey." said Dempsey, drinking his bourbon in one go and ordering another. "Okay, we've made some headway and justified comin' out here, but until we uncover the cuckoo, we're workin' with one hand tied behind our goddam backs!"

Harry appeared pensive. "But surely, now we've got all this evidence we simply arrest Hofton and Sir Marcus for child trafficking." she said.

"And what about the rest of 'em Harry? We've no idea who they are. I only saw and photographed Hofton and Sir Marcus gettin' outta that chopper, remember? 'An we're assumin' Hoftons head of this organisation 'cos it's his place bein' used, but you snapped a limo with Arab plates. Now those guys are seriously rich and they could be bankrollin' the whole operation. All we'd be doin' is cuttin' off the head of the weed if we just nabbed those two. No, we have to get 'em all, honey!"

"Wouldn't they enter a plea bargain?" she said. "You know, tell us who the rest are, including the cuckoo, for a reduced sentence."

"Harry, for God's sake, will you listen to yourself!?" replied Dempsey. "A plea bargain!? You'd be happy they'd get a reduced sentence!? Hell fire, honey what's gotten into you?"

She went very quiet.

"Honey, what's goin' on." asked Dempsey. "This ain't like you."

She looked at him, her features drawn, her eyes fearful.

"Perhaps the only way then to find out who the gang are and who the cuckoo is, is to set up a sting with him as the target." she said, finally. "Once we've got him, I think he'll crack. We might also get him to turn Queen's evidence and testify against them all. I know that'll involve a reduced sentence for him, but it'd be worth it."

Demspey looked at her suspiciously, his radar homing in on hers.

"Go on." he said, caution in his voice, dread in the pit of his stomach beginning to take root. He downed another draught of whisky.

"Well look Dempsey, as you've pointed out, we need to get the lot of them, but we're limited as to what we can do whilst the cuckoo is on the loose." she said. "However, we do know that Sir Marcus has a fixation with me and he's in league with the cuckoo. Can't we work something out with that?"

"Like what exactly?"

"I don't know yet, darling." she said, anxiously, grabbing his hand. "But perhaps we can use one to catch the other and end up getting them all. It doesn't necessarily mean I'll be in danger, because I don't believe Sir Marcus would want to harm me."

"Harry have you taken leave of your senses!?" growled Dempsey, incredulous at her suggestion. "That guy's a twisted pervert and possibly a friggin' killer, an' you don't think you'd be in danger!? Sheesh baby, come on, think about it!"

"Yes, yes I know." she argued. "I know he's dangerous, of course I do, but he's goes to jelly every time he's near me. Haven't you noticed?"

"Yeah, I've noticed, Harry!" he said, angrily, snatching his hand away. "An' I've also noticed what those young black girls are goin' through, an' that scumbag's involved in it up to his scrawny goddam neck!"

"And it's because of what all those poor young black girls are going through I'm suggesting all of this, Dempsey!" she retorted, just as angrily, her beautiful blue eyes beginning to water.

He looked away, remembering the last time she put herself up for bait and ending up being beaten almost senseless by a crazed psychopathic assassin. Being only a month or so previously, it was still raw.

Once again, his love for her was getting confused with their work.

He stood up and walked onto the beach, squatting on his haunches, head bowed, digging his hand into the sand and watching as it ran out through his fingers, his mind racing, his emotions close to the edge.

Harry wiped away a tear.

She knew exactly what he was thinking and got up from her stool, walking slowly to join him, kneeling down in front of him in the sand and taking both his hands in hers.

"I love you Dempsey, more than you'll ever know." she said, tilting her head to one side and looking into his eyes. "And I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you. But we _have _to stop the hideous perversion going on in that evil mansion back there."

He lifted his head and looked at her, the anger all but gone, his soft brown eyes watery, full of love, yet unable to hide his disquiet.

He stood up, bringing her to her feet too and put his arms around her waist, hers automatically looping round his neck, and kissed her waiting lips.

"I dunno angel" he said, finally. "I need some time to think 'bout this. Give it a rest for now, huh? I'm hungry. Let's have somethin' to eat."

"Ok darling." she said. "I'm hungry too."

They returned to the bar, ordering another round of drinks and asked if a meal was possible at such a late hour.

"Si senor." answered the barman. "You are guests. What would you like?"

Impressed, they settled for fillet steaks with a side salad and a bottle of the hotel's finest red wine.

That night their passion was fervent, impatient, reaching heights they thought previously impossible and in the morning they were more in love with each other than ever before.

But paradoxically, it was only going to make decisions as to how they move forward with the case, that much more difficult.

Dempsey activated their open return, first class tickets and they boarded a British Airways flight to London at four-thirty that afternoon, landing at Heathrow at six pm, GMT, and arriving at Harry's house by seven-thirty.

He opened a bottle of chilled white wine for her, opting for a cold bottle of beer for himself.

"Hadn't we better call Spikings, James." asked Harry, sitting down beside him on the sofa and taking a sip, before placing her glass on the small side table next to her.

"Yeah, you make the call, angel." he replied, swigging from the bottle and not particularly in the mood for Spikings's banter.

She dialled his number.

"Who's that!?" came the usual response.

"It's Makepeace sir. "

"Ah, Sergeant." he answered. "Still sunning yourselves, are you?"

"No actually, sir." she replied. "We're home now. Just got in as a matter of fact."

"Oh, I'm honoured." said Spikings, unable to hide his natural cynicism. "Couldn't wait to speak to me, eh?"

"You could say that, sir." replied Harry, rolling her eyes at Dempsey. "We'd like to meet with you and run through what we saw and the evidence we've collated."

"Right, well I've got a meeting with the Commissioner tomorrow morning, which will probably involve lunch too, Makepeace." he announced. "So I'll come to you in the afternoon, let's say, three o'clock?"

"Perfect sir, we'll see you then. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Sergeant."

"He'll be here tomorrow afternoon." she said, noting Dempsey's quiet mood and getting up to refill her wine glass." Have you thought anymore about how we move on with this case?"

"Constantly." he answered, searching her face, downing another draught of beer. "I've thought of nothin' else."

"Perhaps we'll get a different fix on it if we discuss it with Spikings." she suggested.

"He'll go for it." replied Dempsey. "He don't love you like I do."

She returned to the sofa, sitting down close to him, taking his arm and putting it round her neck, then resting her head on his shoulder.

They remained like that for some time, comfortable in their silence and stealing themselves for what was going to be a dangerous few days ahead.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10.**

Spikings arrived, as arranged, at three o'clock the next afternoon.

Harry had already brewed a pot of fresh coffee and gave him a cup after he'd made himself comfortable in one of her armchairs.

"Right, what have you two come up with then?" he demanded, looking at them both, whilst downing half a cupful in one gulp.

Dempsey and Harry took it in turns to describe the events of their days in Spain, from locating the mansion and managing to access it, to listing the multitude of photographic evidence they'd compiled and their first hand witnessing of the abuse the young black girls are having to endure.

They rounded off their report by playing the VHS tape secured from the mansion's study.

Like them, Spikings was appalled and sickened.

He'd been a front line policeman for many years and seen some hideous things, but when children are involved, it eclipses everything that's gone before.

"You've done a good job." he said. "And there's certainly enough evidence, I'd say, to secure a conviction for Jimmy Hofton and Sir Marcus Battersby-Thorpe."

"But?" said Dempsey.

"But they are just two of the whole gang and we need to get all of them." said Spikings.

"Makepeace and I feel the same way, Chief." Dempsey concurred, gazing at Harry. "And we also wanna get that goddam cuckoo! You said you'd come up with a blank when we spoke last Thursday, any developments since?"

"None!" said Spikings, clearly worried and exasperated. "Apart from you two and Chas, there are seven other SI-10 operatives. Jamie, Andy, Terry, Tony, Chris, Sam and Josh. Every single one was selected, positively vetted and recruited nearly four years ago when the department was created and I've never found any reason to suspect their loyalty since."

"Could it be someone outside the team then, sir?" asked Harry. "Is that possible?"

"Anything's possible Sergeant." replied Spikings. "We have to rely, to a certain degree, on trust that the cases we're involved in, aren't being discussed outside the confines of SI-10."

"Have you had any one to one's with 'em, Chief?"

"As yet, no I haven't Dempsey." replied Spikings. "I don't particularly want to shatter the trust between the team, when I can't be absolutely sure which one, if any, might be a traitor."

Unnoticed by Spikings, Harry held Dempsey's gaze, who knew that the time had arrived for him to have to go along with her original idea of using Sir Marcus, seeing as no alternative solution seemed likely to present itself.

He nodded his reluctant acceptance.

"Sir." she began, steeling herself, dreading what she was about to volunteer herself for. "There may be a way of, not only unearthing the cuckoo, but bringing the lot of them to justice."

"Oh yes?" answered Spikings. "How?"

"Sir Marcus has feelings for me." commenced Harry. "So..."

"And how would you know that Sergeant?" interrupted Spikings, before Harry could continue.

"Trust us Chief." answered Dempsey. "He has the hots for her!"

"Yes, and a girl can sense these things, anyway." she carried on. "My father has even noticed and has had cause to warn him off."

"I see." said Spikings. "Go on Sergeant.

"So I think there could be a way of unmasking the cuckoo and getting the rest of the gang by using Sir Marcus's soft spot for me." she said.

"And exactly how do you propose doing that, Sergeant?" asked Spikings, as yet unconvinced. "Seduce him?"

Harry shivered, the mere thought turning her stomach, visions of the tip of his tongue wiping his lips like a snake, flashing into her mind. Swallowing hard to keep the rising bile in her throat at bay, she continued.

"Er, no sir. Absolutely not. I'd rather stick pins in my eyes than have him even touch me. No, I know he'd like to take me out to dinner and my idea is to accept his offer. He'll be offguard and a captive audience. I'll then tell him I know all about his trips to Spain."

"And how does that expose the cuckoo?" asked Spikings.

"Because for one thing it'll complete unnerve him and for another, I'm also going to tell him we know he's being tipped off from inside." answered Harry, continuing. "And, three, I intend to inform him that if he comes clean and tells us everything he'll be spared a jail sentence."

"Oh no you ain't!" said Dempsey, angrily. "That piece of horse dung's goin' down, Makepeace!"

"Dempsey! Hear me out! I'm not finished!" exclaimed Harry, looking daggers at him, then addressing Spikings. "Sir, I have no scruples in this case. What those poor young girls are being put through, sickens me to my very soul and if we have to play dirty to destroy this ring of child traffickers then I, for one, won't lose any sleep over it. Sir Marcus _must _go to prison, but as far as he's concerned, he initially needs to know he's safe by grassing them up."

Spikings was looking intently at her. "I always knew you were tough, Sergeant, but you're quite ruthless when it comes down to it, aren't you."

"Whatever it takes, sir." she replied, mentally biting her lip.

"_Whatever_ it takes?" Dempsey repeated, eyebrows raised and looking straight at her.

He knew he was being a touch childish in his response, but his feeling of unease wouldn't go away. Harry's suggestion sounded simple, but he knew it was fraught with danger.

"Well, short of physically prostituting myself, yes." she confirmed, her eyes beseeching him to back off and support her.

She went and fetched the coffee pot, refilling all three cups, replacing it on its hotplate when finished.

"And what do you think, Lieutenant?" asked Spikings, the tense atmosphere between his two operatives not lost on him. He couldn't quite determine whether this was brotherly/sisterly concern going on, or something much deeper.

Dempsey hesitated, then cleared his throat.

"I gotta say, Chief, I don't like it one bit." he said, avoiding Harry's glare. "To all intents and purposes it's just a dinner date, but we've no idea how that creep will react once Makepeace gets down to the nitty gritty."

"What if we wired her." suggested Spikings. "That way we'd be able to dive in if things started going pear shaped."

"Just whose gonna dive in, Chief?" asked Dempsey. "We can't use any of the guys on this, one of 'em could be the goddamed cuckoo!"

"I think my father might help us there." Harry suddenly said.

They both looked questioningly at her.

"He has many contacts in the Security Services. I'm sure he could put a team together." she went on. "And whilst he never gets involved in my work, my aunt is stepping out with Sir Marcus, so he has a vested interest in her safety. If I bring him in on this, he'll want to see Sir Marcus behind bars as much as we do. And he can't abide traitors. He was deeply involved with the Burgess, McLean and Philby cases in the fifties and sixties, so he'd relish helping expose our cuckoo."

"So you're talking about a bunch of serving, or retired, SAS officers are you, Makepeace?"

"I can't be sure as to their individual, current status, sir, but yes, in essence you're correct." said Harry. "Of course, this is subject to my father agreeing to it all, but my instincts tell me he'll go for it."

"To recap then." said Spikings. "You're talking about using Sir Marcus's er, affection, for you, Sergeant, to take you on an innocent sounding dinner date with him, whereby you'll then inform him we know all about his involvement in a child trafficking ring in Spain, that there's a cuckoo in our nest and if he comes clean on all of it, we'll guarantee him a pardon from prosecution."

" Yes, in a nutshell, sir."

"And in the meantime we'll wire you up and have a team of SAS guys in the wings covering you in case things don't go to plan."

"Yes sir."

"Dempsey?" said Spikings.

"I'm a bit more relaxed about it, seein' as Makepeace'll have back up, but I still don't like it, Chief." replied Dempsey. "I'm not convinced that bozo is as predictable as she thinks, but I don't see how else we can move things on, so I guess, on balance, we should try it."

Harry's heart went out to him, knowing how worried he was for her, but was also, albeit reluctantly, respecting her judgement and decision.

She also knew that what she was proposing was very dangerous and that Sir Marcus may not react as she expected, but the images of those brutalised, frightened young girls wouldn't go away and she was prepared to risk her life in bringing an end to their suffering.

"Alright then." said Spikings. "You sound Lord Winfield out and report back to me. When will you see him?"

"I'll call him shortly, sir." replied Harry. "I should think we'll be able to go up tonight, so I'll contact you tomorrow."

"_We'll _be going up? echoed Spikings.

"Why yes sir. Dempsey is my partner, he's as involved as I am, isn't he?" she answered, feigned innocence all over her face. "And I'm sure he'll want to be part of the back up team."

"Damned right!" endorsed Dempsey.

"Contact me via my home then, will you?" confirmed Spikings, vacating his chair. "My wife can get a message to me."

After he'd gone, Harry brewed some more coffee and took a cup to Dempsey who was standing staring out of one of the windows, deep in thought.

"Penny for them, darling." she said, handing him his cup, then holding him close, knowing exactly why he was quiet. "I suppose you're angry with me, aren't you."

"How can I be angry with you, princess?" he replied, placing his cup on the window sill and slipping his arm round her waist. "You're puttin' your life on the line for those girls, I know that. No, I'm just worried, simple as that."

"Let's call Freddy." she said. "It'll be nice to see him again and an evening with him always lifts the spirits, doesn't it."

She picked up the telephone and dialled.

"'Allo? Winfield 'All." came a female's voice.

"Oh, er, who's that?" asked Harry.

"_Who's that_?" came the reply.

"This is Lady Harriet, who are you?" she asked.

"Ooh I'm sorry m'lady. This is Josie, Mr Tomkins, the gardeners wife."

"Oh I see. Hello Josie. Where's Lord Winfield?"

"''Is Lordship's in London, m'lady. Left this mornin', he did. Asked if 'Arold an' I could look after the place while 'is Lordship's away. 'E'll be back in a cuppla days."

"Okay Josie, no matter." chuckled Harry. "I'll call him at the other house. Thanks, bye."

She dialled again.

"Lord Winfield's residence, Abbott speaking, how may I help you?"

"Abbott, hello, it's Harriet. Is my father there?"

"Ah yes, Miss Harriet. I'll just get him for you." She always wondered why Abbott referred to her as Miss Harriet rather than Lady Harriet, but never one to stand on ceremony, she always let it pass.

"Harriet my darling, how lovely to hear from you." said Freddy.

"Hello Daddy." she replied, and getting straight to the point of her call, asked. "Can James and I come over, we've got something to discuss with you."

"Ooh, sounds rather clandestine." chuckled Freddy. " Of course, darling, come for dinner."

"Okay, we'll be over in about an hour."

"Just right. The sun will be over the yard arm by then, so drinks will be awaiting you."

"Perfect." replied Harry. "See you then."

A hour or so later, the three of them were sitting on the terrace overlooking the gardens to Freddy's Belgravia mansion, enjoying a fine bottle of ice cold Krug champagne, in the late afternoon sunshine.

"So you two, what did you want to discuss with me?" he said, taking a sip.

"Daddy, before we start, can I just say that I know I've always wanted my work to stay out of our lives, but, in this instance, I'm asking for your assistance."

"Alright Harry, I understand." he said, intrigued. "I can tell you're both tense, so come on, out with it."

As with Spikings earlier, they told him everything about their trip abroad and could see his face darkening at the mention of what the girls were being subjected to, followed by clear anger when he was told about Sir Marcus's involvement.

"I knew there was more to that bounder!" he said, darkly. "It just shows how devious he is. I've checked him out and he comes up as clean as a whistle. And to think he's got Alice in his clutches frightens me considerably. So, how can I help."

Harry then outlined her plan.

"Oh Harry, I don't like the sound of that, my darling." said Freddy, clearly worried. "What do you think, James?"

"I'm the same, Freddy and Harry knows it." replied Dempsey, taking her hand. "But we can't see any other way of nailin' them all. If you can put a team of experienced guys together though, with Harry wired up, we'll be able to act if things start to unravel."

"Okay, so at best he'll admit everything and start naming names, which we'll be able to record via Harry's wire, or if he turns nasty, we'll be there to stop him." said Freddy, then turning to Harry asked. "Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this?"

"That man makes my skin crawl, Daddy." she replied, gripping Dempsey's hand tighter. "And I wish there were another way. But when I think of what those girls are being made to do, my revulsion of Sir Marcus pales into nothing!"

"Yes, I understand." said Freddy. "Alright, leave it to me. I can get a pretty formidable team together. Your safety is paramount, my darling Harry, so be comforted by that. But you must make absolutely sure none of this gets out to anyone other than Spikings - your life may depend upon it. I know how difficult it is to expose traitors and whilst they remain hidden, they can be devastatingly effective against you."

"Don't worry Freddy." assured Dempsey. "We're using Spikings home number to communicate."

"Good." responded Freddy. "Now, let's put all this to one side and enjoy an evening together."

The rest of the night was full of gaiety and laughter, Dempsey and Harry finally making for home in the early hours of the next morning, their love and passion for each other culminating in little sleep.

"How are you going to get to the slimeball, Harry?" asked Dempsey over breakfast.

"I thought through Aunt Alice." she replied.

"You're gonna involve Aunt Alice?" said Dempsey, clearly alarmed.

"No, not in the way you're thinking!" she answered, indignantly. "I'd never put her in danger, what do you take me for?"

"Okay then, how?"

"I thought I'd arrange to meet her for that lunch she's so anxious to have and drop into the conversation that you've had to go to New York and I'm on my own." said Harry. "Then I thought I'd turn the conversation to Sir Marcus and remark as to what an attractive man he is."

She grimaced, pretending to put a finger down her throat and throw up.

"Better tell Spikings 'bout my trip to the Big Apple then 'cos the cuckoo'll need to hear 'bout it." said Dempsey, grinning at her antics.

"Yes, of course." she said. "And then we'll just sit and wait to see if he takes the bait."

By early afternoon, Freddy had called to say he'd selected six men, all ex SAS, to make up his team, four of whom had confirmed their involvement immediately, the final two he was due to speak to later in the day, but didn't see a problem.

"I think it's probably safe to call Aunt Alice now and arrange that lunch, don't you think?" said Harry.

"Yeah, if you're sure Freddy's team'll be together." replied Dempsey.

Harry dialled Aunt Alice's number.

"Hello? Aunt Alice? It's Harriet." she said, Dempsey clearly able to hear the squeal of approval the other end of the 'phone.

"Yes, I'm well thank you. Yes, James is too. He's off to New York early tomorrow morning. Be away until Saturday, so I thought we could have that lunch. Well, yes tomorrow lunchtime would be fine. Okay, twelve-thirty at Romano's in Knightsbridge. Yes I will, he sends his back. Bye."

The telephone rang almost the instant she'd replaced the receiver. It was Freddy confirming the last two team members were in place, so Harry told him what she'd arranged with Aunt Alice.

"Good, so as far as Sir Marcus will be concerned James is away until Saturday, and if he's going to bite, it's likely to be Thursday or Friday." he said.

"Yes." confirmed Harry.

"Okay, We'll be on standby, darling, so call when you know more."

"Thanks Daddy. Love you, bye." said Harry, waiting for the dialling tone then calling Spikings' home number.

"Oh hello Mrs Spikings, it's Sergeant Makepeace. Could you ask Mr Spikings to call me when he's home, please? Yes, I will be. Thank you. Goodbye."

Later that night, Spikings returned her call.

"So Makepeace, bring me up to date."

"My father has a team in place and they are on standby." she said. "I've arranged to have lunch tomorrow with my Aunt and I've told her that Dempsey is away in New York until Saturday, so that piece of information might get to Sir Marcus pretty quickly, even by tonight, if she's with him."

"And you think she'll tell him, do you?" asked Spikings.

"Yes I do, sir." replied Harry. "Sir Marcus was at my father's party the other weekend, so neither Dempsey nor I are strangers to him. I'm sure she'll tell him. But sir, it's important you put it round the office tomorrow that Dempsey's away in the US. For the cuckoo's ears, you understand."

"Yes Sergeant, I understand." said Spikings sharply, clearly annoyed at Harry's attempt in teaching him to suck eggs.

"Sorry sir. Of course you understand." she said, firing a glare at Dempsey who was grinning at her apparent sheepishness.

"Right, so if Sir Marcus is going to play ball, you'll be hearing from him in the next couple of days then." said Spikings.

"Yes sir, that's correct."

"Keep in touch. Goodnight."

The 'phone was dead before she could respond.

She sat back and closed her eyes, Dempsey sitting down next to her and taking her in his arms.

"Well done, princess." he said, kissing her tenderly. "You handled all that brilliantly. You don't need me."

"Of course I need you, you twerp!" she said, cuddling close to him. "I need you like never before."

At an expensive restaurant in the heart of Kensington and Chelsea, Alice was dining with Sir Marcus.

"Oh Marcus, I must tell you." she said. "I'm meeting Harriet tomorrow for lunch. Isn't that splendid?"

"Yes dear, how very nice for you." he replied.

"Yes she's feeling lonely. Her partner, James, is off to New York for a few days, so she's going to be alone, poor darling."

"Is she now." he answered, his mind already whirring, the tip of his tongue wiping across his thin lips.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11.**

Romano's, in Knightsbridge, was currently considered the height of Italian chic amongst the dining fraternity and on the radar of various London sets of wealthy clientele.

Not wishing to be the first to arrive and consequently a target for bored husbands on the lookout for a touch of extra marital adventures, Harry arrived deliberately ten minutes late, knowing that she could set her watch by Aunt Alice's punctuality.

Spotting her over at a corner table, she worked her way across the room, conscious of every male's, and some female's, eyes upon her.

"Harriet, darling!" greeted Alice, as she saw her approaching. "You look utterly stunning, such a beautiful tan! Have you been away, darling?"

"Hello Aunt Alice." said Harry, bending down and pecking her cheek, before taking her seat opposite. "No, I've been making use of the lovely summer we're having."

They were interrupted by a male waiter, who'd made a beeline for their table the instant he'd seen Harry arrive and not lost on Alice.

"Laydees? May I getta you something to drink?"

Alice ordered a bottle of Chardonnay, instructing him to ensure it was ice cold.

"Well, darling, still turning heads, I see. You look the picture of health. I love your dress, pale yellow really suits you." she gushed, then cautioning. "Although make the most of this weather, I hear we're in for some storms."

"Oh really?" replied Harry. "How annoying."

"You must persuade that hunk of an American to take you away for a few days." she winked. "How is the gorgeous James?"

"He's very well, thank you Aunt Alice and sends his love."

"Oh do give him a huge kiss from me when you see him next, darling." she said. "Such eye candy! Saturday isn't it, when he's back?"

"Yes, Saturday." Harry confirmed. " And how's Sir Marcus?"

"Oh he's fine thank you Harriet." she answered, looking a little crestfallen. "I don't see him so much these days, although he did take me to dinner last night."

Harry's ears pricked up.

"Somewhere nice?" she asked, as the waiter brought an ice bucket, their bottle of Chardonnay, buried within it.

"Yes, Santorini's in Chelsea." answered Alice. "Lovely Greek menu, you must make James treat you, darling."

"I will." promised Harry as the young, somewhat smitten waiter, busied himself showing how expert he was with the corkscrew, eventually pulling the cork with Latin flourish and pouring a small amount into Alice's glass.

She swirled the wine around, sniffed its bouquet, tasted it and nodded, the waiter then filling both glasses and placing the bottle back in the bucket beside her.

"Woulda you like a menu?" he asked, his dark brown eyes looking longingly at Harry.

"No, not just now thank you." she replied, amused. "Five minutes perhaps."

"Golly, darling." whispered Alice, giggling after he'd left. "You really do know how to attract the opposite sex, don't you."

"It seems so, yes." agreed Harry, but wanting to turn the conversation into another direction. "Now, tell me about Sir Marcus. Such a good looking, handsome man, isn't he? You must love being on his arm."

"Oh I do yes." she replied. "And he's promised to take me to Wimbledon next week, so I'm looking forward to that, darling."

"Will you see him before then?" asked Harry, innocence itself.

"I doubt it, Harriet darling." she answered, wistfully. "Although I'll probably call him."

The rest of their meal consisted of chat and gossip from Alice, punctuated later by several cups of cappuccino, Harry not losing the opportunity to sing Sir Marcus's praises whenever appropriate and intent on getting across to her how lonely she felt with James away.

Arriving back home at four o'clock, she flopped into an armchair.

"How'd it go, angel?" asked Dempsey.

"Exhausting!" she sighed. "I do love Aunt Alice to bits, Dempsey, but my, she can talk the hind legs of a donkey!"

He chuckled. "Like a coffee?"

"What? You've actually made some coffee?" asked Harry, sarcastically, knowing he was pretty useless around the kitchen doing anything else.

"Sure honey." he replied, smiling, ignoring her sarcasm.

"Go on then, although if you wake up next to a coffee bean tomorrow, you can blame Aunt Alice." she said, chuckling. "Dear God, she must be high as a kite with so much caffeine inside her!"

Dempsey poured her a cup and took it over.

"So, do you think you've done enough?" he asked, placing his arm around her shoulders.

"Well I hope so, yes." she said, sipping her drink and nestling into him. "The next two days will prove it though."

In Sir Marcus's Mayfair flat the telephone was ringing in his lounge. Cursing, he lifted himself off the young black girl lying prostrate underneath him.

"Don't move!" he snarled. "I'll be back and you'd better make me happy this time."

Picking up the receiver, he waited whilst the pips finished, then listened.

"Hello? You there?" said a voice.

"Yes. What do you want, I'm busy."

"You wanted an update on Dempsey and Harry Makepeace didn't you!?"

"Yes what can you tell me."

"According to Spikings, Dempsey's over in the States, something to do with the NYPD and Makepeace is having a few days off."

"Is she at home?"

"I don't know!" hissed the voice. "Probably yes. Listen, Spikings is acting very odd these days. He knows there's a mole somewhere. I don't think I can do this anymore!"

"You listen to me, you scum!" he threatened, aware of tears in the voice. "You'll do what we say or you know what'll happen to that precious relative of yours."

"For God's sake!" sobbed the voice. "She's only twelve years old!"

"You should've thought about that before your mob were nearly successful fitting Jimmy up last month!"

"I sorted that for you. I tipped you off, didn't!?. Look, let her go, please!" begged the voice, clearly distressed. "I won't say anything, I promise."

"You sorted it because we've got her, so she'll stay where she is. You just keep doing as you're told."

He slammed the 'phone down and walked back into his bedroom, his tongue whipping across his lips.

"Now, where were we." he growled.

Over at Jimmy Hofton's mansion in Hampstead, he was pulling back the carpet on the floor of his study, his buxom black mistress next to him panting slightly when the trap door was opened. Lifting it up, he flicked a switch on the wall, illuminating a flight of steps down which they both descended.

The equivalent of a self contained flat opened up before them, the frightened little twelve year old negress cowering back into her chair as soon as she saw her tormentors approach, their grins betraying their intentions.

Back at Sir Marcus's apartment, his telephone was ringing once more.

"Yes." he said.

"Oh Marcus, it's Alice. How are you, darling?"

"I'm well Alice. You?"

"Oh yes. I've just had a delightful lunch with Harriet, my neice."

"Yes you said you were meeting her. Did it go well?"

"Yes, she looked utterly breathtaking Marcus. Such a beautiful creature, very much like her dear departed mother."

"Yes I'm sure. I don't think I made a very good impression on her though, when we met at your brothers party."

"Oh quite the contrary Marcus." countered Alice. "She was only saying what a hugely attractive man you are. Made me quite proud to be on your arm, darling."

"Is that so." he replied, his tongue active again.

"Yes and I think the poor darling is feeling a touch lonely too. James is away, you know. Anyway, I just called to ask if Wimbledon was still on for next week. I do hope so, I'm so looking forward to it, you know."

"Yes Alice, the tickets arrived in this mornings post."

"Oh wonderful!" she said. " Alright, see you then Marcus, my love. Be good."

At Harry's house the tension was beginning to tell on her, but Dempsey's unique ability to calm her spoke dividends for their special relationship, any other would have shattered into a million pieces under the pressure.

Tuesday night passed without a call and Wednesday the telephone remained silent, but around mid morning Thursday it shrilled.

Steeling herself, Harry answered it, Dempsey right by her side. She gripped his hand.

"Hello?" she said.

"Ah yes, Miss Makepeace?" came Sir Marcus's unmistakeable voice.

"Yes? Who is this?" she feigned.

"It's Sir Marcus Battersby-Thorpe. May I call you Harriet?"

"Er, yes you may, Sir Marcus." she replied, then silently swallowing and gripping Dempsey's hand harder, said. "It's nice to hear from you."

"Is it? Oh well, please, call me Marcus."

"Yes Marcus." she replied. "And er, how may I help you?"

"Harriet, I'll come straight to the point." he started. "I fear we may have got off on the wrong foot and, well, I'd like to make amends and invite you to dine with me."

"Well that's very nice of you, Marcus." she said, closing her eyes, Dempsey almost yelling as his hand went white from her grip. "I'd love too."

"You would? Are you free tomorrow evening?" he asked.

"Erm, yes I am Marcus."

"I'll pick you up at seven-thirty."

"Er Marcus, please don't take this the wrong way, but I'd rather meet you there." she said. "I apply that rule to every first date."

He was silent for a second or two.

"Oh er I see. Well, alright. I'll book a table at Santorini's in Chelsea for eight o'clock. I hope you like Greek food?"

"Yes, I love it. That'll be nice, thank you."

"Until tomorrow then, Harriet. Goodbye."

"Goodbye Marcus."

She threw the 'phone down as if it were poisionous, Dempsey extracting his aching hand from her grip and replacing the handset, then enveloping her in his arms, calming her shaking body, her pounding heart bouncing against his chest.

When her breathing slowed to normal, he looked at her ashen face and went to their drinks tray, returning with a glass of brandy.

"Here, angel." he offered. "Drink this."

She took it with both hands, hugging the glass to her, then sipping the vintage armagnac slowly, closing her eyes again as it warmed its way into her stomach.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" asked Dempsey, concerned she may have bitten off more than she could chew.

She looked at him, then burst into tears. "I don't know, darling." she sobbed, her cheeks sodden within seconds. "I thought I was."

"We can call it off, princess." he said, his arm around her shoulders. "We can fight this thing another way."

She shook her head, slowly regaining her focus and composure. She drank the rest of her brandy, placing the empty glass on the table beside her.

"Without the cuckoo, we could yes." she said, eventually. "But with him in there, we're hamstrung. And we have to save those poor girls. That's why I'm putting myself though this hell."

"I know, angel." said Dempsey, softly, pulling her into him. "I know."

Back at the Mayfair apartment, Sir Marcus's telephone chirped again. He picked up the handset and, once more, waited for the beeps to finish.

"Got your message. What is it this time?" said the voice.

"Are you sure that Yank is away?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I'm taking Harriet Makepeace out to dinner tomorrow night and I don't want him suddenly showing up."

"_You're what!?"_

"I'm dining with Harriet, something you told me would be impossible."

"She hates your guts! The guys were only saying the other day how much she almost vomited at the mere sound of your name when she was last in the office! And she's agreed to go to dinner with you!?"

"Yes!"

"Then you're a mug! It's a set up, gotta be!"

He replaced the handset slowly, then called out.

"Wilson!"

His chauffeur appeared at the door in an instant. "Yes sir?"

"I want you to take a cab to Harriet Makepeace's house and watch the place for any sign of her American friend. You got that? If you see him I want to know, immediately!"

"Yes sir."

As the day progressed, Harry regained her resolve and became positive once more about meeting Sir Marcus.

During the afternoon, Dempsey had talked the whole thing through with her again, probing her doubts, getting her to meet them head on, working his unique magic on her to such an extent she'd relaxed totally and pulled him into the bedroom, unleashing a passion upon him that left them exhausted, happy and completely spent.

They'd also worked up an appetite and, that evening, enjoyed a couple of delicious prime cuts of thick fillet steak garnished with parsley, a touch of garlic and black pepper, with golden crispy potatoes and a side salad, the whole meal accompanied by a bottle of vintage Chateau Neuf du Pape.

Refreshed and relaxed, Harry then called Freddy and Spikings and brought them both up to date.

"Would you believe it, Daddy." said Harry, during their conversation. "He's only taking me to the very same retaurant he took Aunt Alice to the other night!"

"Yes well that's about the measure of him, isn't it!"

Freddy assured her that two of his team would be in the restaurant itself, whilst he and the remaining four would be outside in two cars, keeping close watch.

"You're going to be there too, Freddy!?" she asked.

"Of course Harry." he said. "You honestly don't think I could be at home twiddling my thumbs do you, darling?"

"No, I suppose not." she said, laughing and comforted by the news, not in the least worried for his safety seeing as he'll have six burly SAS soldiers with him, not to mention Dempsey too.

Spikings confirmed he'd arrive the next day at her house in the late afternoon with the wire, admitting he'd taken the decision to bring Chas into the secret and who would be with him in the van round the corner to the restaurant listening to her conversation.

"Okay we'll trust your judgement, sir, where Chas is concerned." said Harry.

"Thank you Sergeant." he said. "I'm in absolutely no doubt Chas isn't our cuckoo. He's under strict instructions not to discuss this with me in the office and like you, calls me at home."

"Does Chas have any idea who he might be?"

"No Makepeace, he doesn't." replied Spikings. "He's as baffled as we are."

The next day, the storms that Alice had predicted swept across the country, black clouds, fuelled by a strong, blustery wind, emptied their contents, the rain lashing down in torrents, lightning flashing across the dark sky and thunder bellowing through the heavens.

"This could be the same storm we had that night in Spain, Dempsey." said Harry. "The one you slept through!"

"You think?" he asked.

"Yes I think." replied Harry. "The weather we've been having has been coming up from the south, so it stands to reason, doesn't it?"

"If you say so, honey." said Dempsey, not especially interested.

"Even though my cab will drop me off outside the restaurant tonight." she said. "I could still get drenched and end up looking like a drowned rat!"

"You'll still be beautiful to me, princess." said Dempsey. "Hey look, I gotta big umbrella in the car, big enough to keep two dry easily. I'll go get it."

"Thank you, darling." she replied. "You are a gentleman after all."

He dashed out to his car, found the brolly and dashed back in, the operation only taking a few seconds, but enough to soak him through.

Unsurprisingly, he didn't notice the black cab parked across the road. As soon as Dempsey had shut the front door, it left.

As the evening approached, Harry's nervousness returned, Dempsey culling it at every moment, constantly encouraging her, relaxing her.

She showered and dressed.

Although the weather had turned, it still felt humid, the storm doing nothing to abate the warmth in the air, so she chose a simple summer skirt in pale blue, with a white cotton, sleeveless shirt, white sandals and matching clutch bag, into which her small, ivory handled, chrome revolver lay hidden amongst her other womanly possessions.

Spikings and Chas arrived at seven o'clock.

"Hi Harry, Dempsey, you ok?" asked Chas, as he walked up to them.

"Yeah, thanks Chas." replied Dempsey, Harry nodding too. "No idea then who's grassing on us?"

"No and it's making life very difficult." replied Chas. "I just don't know who to trust. I'm sure the guys sense there's something up, but nothings been said."

"Are you ready for this Sergeant?" asked Spikings.

"As ready as I'll ever be, thank you, sir."

Chas strapped a small wired device to her stomach, testing that it worked okay and gave her the all clear.

"Right we'll be on our way. Good luck, Sergeant." said Spikings.

"Thank you, sir, I hope I won't need it." replied Harry, forcing herself to smile as they left.

The taxi arrived at seven fifty and honked its horn.

Dempsey took her in his arms and kissed her, she clinging to him, her heart already beating fast.

"Okay honey." he said, looking into her worried blue eyes. "I'll be right behind you. We'll all be there, you ain't alone. I love you."

"I love you too." she whispered and then was gone, Dempsey giving it five minutes before following.

Everyone was in place and watched as at first, the black Rolls pulled up outside the restaurant, the chauffeur opening the rear door and, with a black umbrella, sheltered Sir Marcus as he stepped out and walked into the building, the chauffeur returning to the driving seat, the car remaining parked.

Ten minutes later, Harry's cab arrived.

The rain had turned torrential again and the first thing they saw was a large umbrella emerge from the cab, Harry then following it and, still bone dry, walked into the restaurant.

"That's my girl." said Freddy, quietly.

"She's a hell of a looker, your Lordship, if you don't mind my saying so, sir." said George, one of the ex soldiers with him in the car, the other two with him, nodding their agreement.

"Thank you, George." said Freddy, not offended at all, he was used to plain speaking amongst this fraternity. "She's spoken for."

"Lucky man." said George.

"Right lads. I'm going to join Mr Spikings in the van around the corner. You know what to do."

"Yes sir."

Freddy opened an umbrella and stepped out into the sheeting rain, holding it low, partly to hide him from the possible prying eyes of the chauffeur, partly to keep him dry.

In the listening van around the corner and out of sight, Dempsey had arrived and joined Spikings and Chas.

"Has she made contact yet, Chief?"

"Nothing yet Dempsey."

There came a sharp tap on the side. Sliding open the door, Freddy climbed in.

"Good evening all." he said, the others acknowledging him, all shaking hands in turn.

Upon entering the restaurant, Harry looked around and saw Sir Marcus at their table, he standing up as she approached and pulling her chair out for her.

She sat down and smiled at him, his tongue immediately emerging and wiping his lips, Harry forcing her smile to stay on her face, her hands gripping the chair arms tightly as she watched him sit down opposite her.

"Thank you for joining me tonight, Harriet." he smarmed. "Now what would you like to drink?"

"White wine would be nice, thank you." she replied.

He snapped his fingers, a waiter appearing immediately at his side, taking his order.

She had no appetite at all, so decided to get this over and done with as soon as the pleasantries had been dealt with and an opportunity presented itself.

"Can I just say, Harriet, you look especially beautiful tonight." he gushed. "You have a lovely tan. No doubt our nice summer weather is responsible rather than those awful sunbed things."

She grasped the chance with both hands.

"Actually no, Marcus." she said, her blue eyes ice cold. "I acquired much of it in Spain last weekend."

"Oh shoot!" said Dempsey. "She ain't wastin' any time. This is it!"

"Spain you say." said Sir Marcus, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Whereabouts?"

"San Pedro first, then a secluded beach near Tarifa." answered Harry. "You see, Marcus, we know all about your disgusting trade in young negresses and we know there's a mole in our organisation protecting you."

His face had gone white, his tongue constantly poking out of his mouth, licking his lips, then disappearing again, only for the whole process to repeat itself, several seconds later.

"I knew this evening was a sham. I discovered your boyfriend isn't in America after all, but I thought we'd go through with this just the same."

Back in the van, Spikings shot Dempsey a glance. "Boyfriend?" he said.

Dempsey just shrugged and shook his head.

Harry's mind was racing. 'How in the hell did he find out about Dempsey? God I wish he was here now' she thought.

"Anyway whatever you think you saw, you'll have to prove it." said Sir Marcus, finally, his eyes beginning to look threatening.

"Oh we have proof, Marcus. Enough to put you and Jimmy Hofton away for a very long time, but we want the whole nest of vipers. I'm duty bound to inform you though, that if you elect to give us all the details of the sordid little team of low life you are in cahoots with, and who it is you have on the inside, we'll guarantee you immunity from prosecution."

He sat back on his chair, hands in his jacket pockets, staring at her, his face changing, a murderous look replacing the jocular expression of earlier.

Harry didn't like it. She had expected him to relent, but Dempsey's warning that he was unpredictable streamed into her head.

He leaned forward, hands out of his pockets now.

"Now you listen to me, you stuck up little bitch!" he spat, his eyes black with hate, the transformation in his demeanour astonishing. "Right at this moment, I have a loaded revolver pointing at your abdomen. Are you wired for sound, incidentally? If so, you can all listen very carefully to what I'm about to say. We're going to get up from this table, nice and easy, and walk outside to my car. If anybody makes the slightest attempt to stop us, I will fire this gun and shoot your pretty little messenger dead. It will also trigger another death. A twelve year old girl is in our custody and she will die too. Shall we go, Harriet?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12.**

Harry remained motionless but, although momentarily stunned by Sir Marcus's sudden switch in personality, her mind was working fast, her training kicking in as she quickly evaluated the scenario.

She was aware that amongst the diners were two of Freddy's team and, although she hadn't been able to identify either of them, she knew they'd be assessing the current situation carefully.

Unbeknown to her and on the very next table was, indeed, a highly trained, battle hardened ex SAS soldier, Captain Clipper, and he'd heard every word that Sir Marcus had just spoken.

Watching him closely was Sergeant Flint, the other soldier put into place by Freddy who, although positioned in another part of the restaurant, was reading the eye movements of his colleague, a specially adapted equivalent of morse code and who understood quickly what was unfolding.

They bided their time.

"I suggest you move, Harriet." snarled Sir Marcus, under his breath.

Harry kept her cool.

"What are going to do, Marcus? Shoot me right here in front of all these witnesses?" she asked, her eyes ice blue and scything into his.

Listening in the van outside, Dempsey was feeling utterly helpless, until Freddy quietly laid a comforting hand on his arm, Dempsey glancing at him, noting his expression urging him to stay focussed and calm. He remembered the SAS were inside with Harry, and he understood the gesture, relaxing just a little.

In the restaurant, Sir Marcus was beginning to lose his composure, worry in his eyes slowly replacing the hate and anger.

"You should know Marcus." said Harry, quietly, watching him closely. "I am not alone."

Captain Clipper, next to her, readied himself, waiting for the moment Sir Marcus took his eyes off Harry.

When that moment came he knew he had a split second to act.

Sergeant Flint, unseen by Sir Marcus, began to move slowly towards them from behind. Harry noticed him in the corner of her eye, but didn't look at the soldier, knowing that if she did, Sir Marcus might fire in panic.

"I swear I'll shoot you, you cow!" he hissed.

"No you won't Marcus." replied Harry, her apparent calm belying the acute nervous tension underneath. "Because you know full well you'll spend the rest of your miserable life behind bars for murder. And did you really expect me to turn up here without support?"

That was the key.

Marcus suddenly took his eyes of Harry, looking around the restaurant, searching for police.

Clipper pounced, lightning fast, knocking Sir Marcus off his chair and grabbing his gun hand, Harry diving to the floor and Flint quickly placing his foot across Sir Marcus's throat, who began thrashing around trying to dislodge it.

In the struggle that ensued, the gun went off, causing panic amongst the other diners, some mirroring Harry and throwing themselves to the ground, others running for the exit, the women screaming and crying, the men shouting.

At the sound of the gunshot, Dempsey slid the door to the van aside, hurled himself through it and was off and running, sprinting to the restaurant's entrance.

The other four soldiers, positioned in two cars on the road opposite, leapt out, one immediately making for the Rolls, and once reaching it, stood outside the drivers window shaking his head and pointing his revolver at the chauffeur.

Dempsey, meanwhile, had flown through the door, shoulder barging anyone who got in his way and ran to Harry, helping her to her feet and enveloping her in his arms, she pulling him close.

"You okay, princess?" he asked.

"Yes I'm okay." she replied, then looked over at Sir Marcus lying still on the floor.

"Call an ambulance!" shouted Captain Clipper, grabbing a tablecloth and pulling it to the floor, the contents spiralling across the room.

Dempsey and Harry joined him, Harry helping him staunch the blood from a gunshot wound to Sir Marcus's stomach.

"What happened Captain?" asked Dempsey.

"The gun fired by accident I believe, Lieutenant. Looks as though the fellow has taken one in the belly." replied Clipper.

Just then Spikings and Chas, guns drawn, came rushing up, Freddy following and going straight to Harry who, on a nod from Clipper, stood up and hugged her father.

"What's gone on here then Dempsey?" asked Spikings, looking around the restaurant at the mayhem, then glancing down at Sir Marcus.

"He's taken a bullet in the guts, Chief." he replied. "An ambulance should be here any second."

Indeed as he said it, wailing sirens could be heard as an ambulance and four patrol cars screeched to a halt outside, the paramedics running in with a stretcher and the police officers dealing with the crowds of diners and onlookers alike, gathering outside on the pavement.

"Makepeace okay?" asked Spikings, looking for Harry, then spotting her with Freddy.

"Yeah, she's fine Chief." replied Dempsey. "Done a great job."

"Yes she has and Lord Winfield's lads too." added Spikings.

Sir Marcus was rushed to hospital and straight into surgery to remove his bullet, later placed in intensive care and on the critical list.

After Spikings had dealt with the Inspector in charge, who instructed his officers to take statements from restaurant staff and diners alike, he and Chas joined Freddy, his team, Harry and Dempsey back at Freddy's Belgravia home, where Spikings carried out a full debrief.

"What about his chauffeur?" asked Dempsey, when they had finished running through the events leading up to Sir Marcus's shooting.

"He's been taken into custody by the local boys." answered Spikings. "We'll get hold of him tomorrow and see what we can dig out of him. We'll take a DNA sample and send that off and I've also requested one for Sir Marcus. We should then find out if either of them were involved in the murder of our, so far, unidentified dead black girl."

"Whilst on the subject of young black girls, sir." said Harry. "I presume you heard what he said about having one 'in custody' as he so eloquently put it."

"Yes Sergeant, we heard him." replied Spikings. "I'm organising a search warrant tomorrow of Sir Marcus's Mayfair apartment and a second one for Jimmy Hofton's place"

"We'd like to be there too, Chief." said Dempsey, Harry nodding her agreement.

"Yes Lieutenant, you can both join Chas and I." said Spikings. "I'll let you know the time, tomorrow."

"And what about the cuckoo?" asked Harry. "We're no further in unmasking him are we."

"No we're not Sergeant." agreed Spikings. "I fear we're going to have to continue without bringing in the SI-10 team until, perhaps, Sir Marcus recovers enough to be interviewed or if his driver knows something."

Freddy, who'd been silent throughout, decided to speak.

"Chief Superintendent." he commenced. "I think you'll understand when I tell you that Harry and the Lieutenant have discussed this case with me in detail. Otherwise, of course, my team and I wouldn't have been able to get as involved tonight as we have done."

"Yes your Lordship." replied Spikings. "In the circumstances I do quite understand and seeing as how things have turned out, I'm glad they took you into their confidence."

"Thank you." said Freddy, continuing. "Now, I think you're going to have a hard time of it bringing this whole sordid child trafficking ring to justice, seeing as you're operating with a traitor loose in your organisation and therefore can't utilise your full team behind their capture."

Spikings nodded, Freddy continued.

"So may I make a suggestion and at the same time offer my and my team's assistance." he asked.

"Go on sir." replied Spikings. "What do you have in mind?"

"We understand the whole gang congregate once a month in a mansion in Spain, where these unfortunate young girls are sold to the highest bidder."

"Yes that's correct." agreed Spikings.

"Then I feel the only option open to you is to catch them red handed, so to speak." said Freddy. "In other words, my team and I, would be prepared to assist you in organising a raid on the premises when we know the auctions are being carried out - that way we _know _we will round up the lot of them."

Harry stared at her father, then across to Dempsey who raised his eyebrows and smiled back, then to Spikings who was looking a little startled.

Gathering his thoughts, he replied. "And your team are in agreement?"

Captain Clipper then spoke.

"Chief Superintendent." he said. "I speak for all the men here. We may have retired from front line duty, but we still relish the thought of getting stuck in to something like this. We've all got kids, daughters and granddaughters alike, and have read in the papers what these paedo's and perverts get up to, so we wouldn't want to miss an opportunity in being part of an operation to bring the lot of them to justice."

"Thank you Captain." said Freddy. "There, Mr Spikings, is your answer, I think."

"Yes indeed, sir." replied Spikings. "We have three weeks before the next auction. Lieutenant Dempsey and Sergeant Makepeace have first hand experience of the mansions layout, together with some supporting photography, so I suggest we reconvene here, with your agreement sir, in the next few days to lay down some plans."

"I think Winfield Hall would be more suitable, Chief Superintendent." said Freddy. "Somewhat more private and out of the way, wouldn't you say."

"Yes probably so, sir." agreed Spikings. "Well gentlemen and Sergeant, I think we'll call it a night. Thank you again for all your help this evening. We couldn't have pulled it off without you. Dempsey, Makepeace, I'll be in touch tomorrow. Goodnight all."

After he and Chas had left, Freddy broke open the bar and offered everyone a drink, the soldiers and Dempsey opting for beers, Harry a glass of white wine and Freddy a whisky.

"You're quite enjoying all this aren't you Daddy." said Harry, smiling at her father and taking a sip.

"How did you guess, my darling!" he winked. "Beats getting my exercise on that wretched bicycle!"

Harry laughed and joined Dempsey, who was already well esconced with the soldiers, they having found a kindred spirit in him. She slipped her arm round him and kissed his cheek, before looking at Captain Clipper and Sergeant Flint.

"Thanks boys." she said. "It was getting a little too close for comfort in there."

"Your welcome, your ladyship." replied the captain.

"Hey let's get one thing straight!" she said. "None of this 'your ladyship' nonsense, I'm Harry okay?"

They all raised their beers. "To Harry!" they shouted in unison and swigged back their drinks.

Dempsey left her with them and joined Freddy.

"Quite a team you have there Freddy." he said. "Great bunch of guys."

"Yes James." he replied, smiling at him. "Hand picked and the best. Looks as though they've taken to you, too. I thought they would. It's a good thing, you'll have their respect and loyalty."

"Harry too it seems." replied Dempsey, proudly watching her as she held her own amongst, probably, some of the toughest men on the planet."

"Yes indeed." agreed Freddy, equally as proud. "Harry too."

By midnight the party had broken up, with everyone agreeing to meet again after the weekend. Dempsey and Harry made their way home, agreeing that, if nothing else, the nignt's events had been instrumental in their bonding with some new colleagues and how vital that was going to be when working together as a team.

Falling into bed together, Harry snuggled up close to him, Dempsey lying on his back, Harry on her side with an arm across his stomach, her head nestling against his shoulder.

"I should have listened to you all along, darling." she admitted. "It was incredible how he changed in an instant from behaving like a gentleman to virtually a manic killer!"

"Hey, it's always easy to be wise after the event, angel." he replied. "Don't beat yourself up over it. You put those girls first over your own safety and fear and loathing of that creep. You know, the guy may even be a schitzo. On another day, the cookie could have crumbled the other way."

Recalling how frightened she'd been and how she'd wished he'd been with her, Harry revelled in being close to him now, and, as her hand slipped lower, her breathing got faster and her heart pumped harder, her passion took over.

The next morning Spikings was on the telephone at eight o'clock, announcing he was on his way round to Harry's, arriving fifteen minutes later and alone, having left Chas in charge at SI-10.

Being a Saturday, only a skelton staff would be in, but Spikings still wanted his trusted second in command keeping shop.

Harry offered him a cup of coffee, as had become the norm, and which he accepted.

"I thought I'd bring you up to date." he said, having sat down in what was becoming his favourite armchair. "I've slapped a 'd' notice on last night's events so the press are shut out from reporting it. Secondly, I've arranged for an armed guard outside Sir Marcus's room just in case our friend Hofton decides to pay him a visit and, third, the chauffeur's being transferred to us this afternoon, so make yourselves available to interview him."

"Any news on Sir Marcus, sir?" asked Harry.

"They removed the bullet and he remains in intensive care for now." replied Spikings, taking a large gulp of coffee. "But the doctors think he'll pull through. I'm getting regular updates."

"And the search warrant?" asked Dempsey.

"Yes, I'm picking that up when I get to the office and the one for Hofton's place." he replied, finishing his drink. "So be on standby."

"When do we expect the results of the chauffeurs DNA sample, sir?"

"Back by Tuesday, Makepeace." replied Spikings. "I hope to have Sir Marcus's sample later today, so that could be back with us by Wednesday."

"Who's handling that, Chief?"

"Chas is Dempsey. Why?"

"Just wondered."

"I've known Chas for fifteen years, Dempsey." said Spikings. "He's completely trustworthy, so you can cut out the suspicious innuendo."

"Okay, okay point taken." replied Dempsey, holding his hands up.

"Good." said Spikings. "I'll call you shortly."

An hour and a half later, they were walking into Sir Marcus's opulent Mayfair apartment and within minutes had discovered the young, black girl he'd been using as a punchbag and plaything.

Harry was on the telephone immediately organising her care and wouldn't leave her side, holding her and comforting her, until she was safely on her way to hospital.

After a thorough search, they didn't come up with any incriminating evidence, although Dempsey suggested they obtain a copy of all his incoming and outgoing telephone calls for the past twelve months and with which Spikings agreed.

"Is there any point in searching Hofton's mansion now, sir." asked Harry. "We've found the girl."

"Oh I think it's always worth ruffling Jimmy Hofton's feathers, don't you think, Sergeant?" he said, a wide grin across his face.

After the usual delaying tactics getting past the gates got him nowhere, Hofton reluctantly allowed them access.

They didn't tell him about Sir Marcus, waiting to see if he let slip that he already knew. But as a result of the news blackout, not even the cuckoo knew yet.

"What you want now?" asked Hofton.

"We believe you have a missing young black girl here." said Spikings.

"Well you believe wrong, copper. Your mates already searched this gaff just a cuppla weeks ago and found nothin'."

"We thought we'd look again, okay?"

Following an exhaustive search, nothing was found, the hidden underground, sound proofed flat, housing the young negress captive, remaining a secret.

For the time being, at least, they believed the young girl discovered in the Mayfair apartment was the same young girl Sir Marcus had referred to as being 'in custody'.

Not long after they'd left, Jimmy Hofton's telephone rang.

"'Ello?" he said, after the beeps had stopped.

"Jimmy?"

"Mister 'Ofton to you, boy. Whatchya want?"

"Have you heard from Sir Marcus today at all?"

"No, why would I?"

"Because I've been trying him since eleven and there's no answer!"

"So what?"

"He was wining and dining Sergeant Harriet Makepeace of SI-10 last night, that's why!"

"She's just been round 'ere, with her guv'nor and some Yank!"

"What!? Why!?

"Lookin' for a missin' young black girl, they said."

"You mean _my neice_!?"

"Now don't you go gettin' any fancy ideas, son. You breathe a word of it and you're toast, along with 'er, you get my meanin'!?"

"Don't you find it odd that he's schmoozing Harry Makepeace one minute and the next he's missing and she's round at your place with a search warrant!?"

"Well you'd better earn your dough and find out why, hadn't you, son."

"I don't want your fiflthy lucre any more! I just want out and my niece back!"

"Bit late in the day to get a conscience, you piece of scum. Now you're beginning to get right up my 'ooter son, so do your job before I really lose my cool!"

He slammed the 'phone down and began stroking his chin, running through a few options open to him.

After they'd left Hofton's place Harry wanted to go straight to the hospital to check on the young black girl.

She'd been examined by the doctor, pretty much in silence, seeing as she couldn't speak a word of English. However, he had established that she came from Niger in North Africa and could understand a smattering of French, although her natural language was Hausa.

He confirmed to them that she had been raped several times and was suffering from a broken rib. Harry, being Harry, immediately arranged for a private room and for all her bills to sent to her directly.

Dempsey didn't argue, she'd done this once before but hopefully, this time, her generosity would be appreciated. Last time she'd had a glass of water thrown in her face as a thank you - but that was another story.

"I need to find someone who can speak Hausa, Dempsey." she said. "I wonder if Freddy knows anyone."

"If anyone does, Freddy will know." said Dempsey.

After stopping for a quick bite of lunch they went straight to SI-10 and the interview rooms, where Wilson, Sir Marcus's chauffeur, was waiting.

Spikings conducted the interview.

"Now Mr Wilson, we want some answers."

"I'm saying nothing until my lawyers here." replied Wilson.

"Where were you on the night of Sunday June 14th last?"

"No comment."

"Come on Mr Wilson, we have a very good idea what you were up to that night."

"No comment."

Dempsey sighed, shaking his head at Spikings. Unless he was let loose on Wilson, employing some New York interrogation tactics, this was going nowhere.

But by Tuesday, when the DNA results came back, they would make some headway.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13.**

By ten o'clock on Saturday night, Wilson had been held in custody for twenty-four hours and, quoting the Police and Criminal Evidence Act (PACE) his solicitor demanded that he either be charged or released.

Until his DNA results came back, Spikings had nothing concrete to hold Wilson for and, unable to find a magistrate in time to issue an extension, reluctantly had to let him go.

Meanwhile, Jimmy Hofton had been trying to locate Sir Marcus and, having telephoned both his apartment and home in Warwickshire with no success all day and most of the night, called his two trusted bodyguards to him, Eddie and Joe.

Both orphans, he'd known them since they were eight years old and having taken them under his wing, they came to regard him as close to a father as they'd ever have and were devoted to him.

Instructing them to find out where Sir Marcus was, they called at the Mayfair apartment first and when that failed, decided to see if Wilson was around.

Arriving at his basement flat in Tower Hamlets, they noticed a light burning behind a drawn curtain and wrapped on the front door.

When a corner of the curtain was lifted, they both waved their fingers and grinned at Wilson's questioning face when he peered out, before pointing sharply at the door.

"Hello lads," he welcomed, after opening up. "To what do I owe this pleasure then?"

They pushed him gently, backing him into his front room and followed him in.

"Mister 'Ofton wants to know where your guv'nor is. Any idea, son?" stated Eddie, still pushing Wilson until he was up against his one and only armchair, almost falling into it when Eddie gave him the final shove.

"He's in hospital." replied Wilson, losing his balance and sitting down.

"'Ospital? Why?" asked Joe.

Wilson explained what had happened the previous night to Sir Marcus and how he, Wilson, had been held in custody, had a swab of his saliva taken, then released without charge.

"Which 'ospital's 'e in?" asked Eddie.

"Royal Marsden, Chelsea I think." replied Wilson. "Nearest one to us at the time."

"Mind if I use your blower?" asked Eddie, not waiting for an answer but lifting the receiver and dialling a number.

Jimmy Hofton listened intently to what Eddie was saying, rubbing his chin throughout, then growled. "'E knows too much. Kill 'im!"

Eddie replaced the receiver, flicking a quick glance at Joe who moved round to the back of Wilson's chair.

"Hey, wh..what you doing." he said, having noticed the surreptitious look at Joe, twisting his head left and right, suddenly terrified, fear filling his eyes, the atmosphere charged with tension.

Joe whipped out his knife from a pocket and, in a flash, had grabbed Wilson by the hair, yanked his head back and wiped the blade across his throat, blood spurting from the wide gash that opened immediately, a gurgling sound emanating from him as his hands flew to the wound, his eyes wild in terror and disbelief.

Turning out the light, Eddie and Joe left. It took five minutes for Wilson to die.

After Jimmy Hofton had finished his conversation with Eddie he immediately called the Royal Marsden, feigning as posh an accent as possible and posing as a relative living in Spain.  
The nurse in charge believed him and reported that Sir Marcus was comfortable but still on the critical list. Hofton thanked her and slowly replaced the handset, rubbing his chin once more and thinking hard.

He came to the conclusion that Sir Marcus's days as a member of the child trafficking ring had come to an end, and was now surplus to requirements. There was also the very real danger he'd start singing like a canary, schitzo and weakling that he was, so his time had come.

When Eddie and Joe had arrived back from their visit to Wilson, Hofton looked at them with raised eyebrows.

"Everything alright boys?" he asked.

"Job done." replied Eddie, grinning at Hofton's nodding head.

"Good. Our little playmate downstairs'll reward you two." he said.

Harry had contacted Freddy regarding finding a linguist for the young negress. As expected he knew someone and put her in touch with Sally Van der Merwe, a white South African of Afrikaan descent, who lived in Surrey but quite willing to meet at the hospital on Sunday afternoon.

Dempsey and Harry hooked up with her as arranged and began their gentle interrogation in the privacy of the little girls private room, together with a nurse as an independent witness.

Harry switched on the tape recorder.

They learned that her name was Abebi Yoruba, that she thought she was eleven years old but couldn't be sure and had been abducted from Timia, her home town in the Agadez region of Niger, by two men whom she'd never seen before.

With tears in her eyes, she bravely and falteringly described the tortuous, frightening journey by Landrover, then being forced onto a boat, followed by the transfer to a truck and finally the auction, where Sir Marcus had bought her.

She broke down completely then and it took Sally and Harry a long time to calm her and for her to describe to them what Sir Marcus had done to her. Harry and Dempsey needed to know everything, since this would be vital evidence if Sir Marcus recovered and stood trial.

Apart from Dempsey, who had to keep swallowing down the lump in his throat, they were all in tears by the end of it.

The girls then kissed her goodbye, promising that she was safe now, Harry asking Sally to tell her she'd be back to see her very soon. As they parted company, Sally confirmed she'd be available at short notice should she be needed again and refused to accept any payment for her services.

They were both feeling depressed after learning at first hand what horrors Abebe had endured, so Dempsey pulled into a nearby pub and ordered a couple of double brandy's. They sat in the late afternoon sunshine, out in the beer garden, sipping their drinks and gradually regained a lighter, earlier mood.

On the way home, Harry suggested they detour to Hackney and go to see how Winnie was.

Knocking on her front door, Harry called out.

"Winnie! It's Harry and Dempsey. Are you there?"

The door opened wide, Winnie grinning like a Cheshire cat, delighted to see them again.

"'Arry! 'Ello you's two, come in, come in."

Although her arm was out of the sling it was still in plaster, but the cuts and abraisions to her legs had all but healed and with her eyes on Dempsey, she mischieviously told them that business hadn't been disrupted too badly!

Having deflected numerous attempts to discover if Harry had bedded Dempsey yet, they finally left, Dempsey shaking his head at her blatant audacity, Harry giggling at his embarrassment.

That night, Hofton was deep in conversation with Ellie. After a while, she nodded, then kissed him goodbye, jumped into her white Jaguar XJS and drove off to the Royal Marsden Hospital in Chelsea.

Parking, she then got out and, carrying a small bag, walked into the building and immediately searched for a ladies toilet.

Closing the end cubicle door, she unzipped the soft holdall and pulled out a long white coat, a stethoscope, a clipboard, a wig, an identity pass and a pair of heavy black rimmed spectacles.

First of all she fitted the wig, thus covering her short hair with long, black curls and after checking her image in her make-up mirror, pulled on the long white coat, threw the stethoscope around her neck, clipped the identity pass to her top pocket and put on the spectacles.

Stuffing the bag behind the toilet bowl, she took the clipboard, left the cubicle and stepped out into the corridor, looking every inch the bona fide consultant.

She then followed the internal signs to the intensive care unit and slowed when she saw the police guard sitting outside a private room. Gathering confidence she straightened her back and walked towards him, smiling when he glanced up at her.

"Good evening, officer." she said. "Are you well?"

"Yes I'm fine thank you doctor." said Constable Dunn.

"I'm here to look in on our patient." she said, arriving at the door and placing her hand on its handle.

"I think he's asleep doc." said Dunn.

"Ah well." she whispered, smiling. "I'll be very quiet then."

Without any sudden challenge, she entered the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Lying in the bed, tubes and drip feeds attached to him, lay Sir Marcus, sound asleep, a monitor bleeping in tandem with his heart, the beats, illuminated in green, flickering across the black screen.

Selecting a drip feed, she squeezed it closed, cutting off the fluid that had been draining into him. Suddenly his eyes flew open, he started convulsing and screwed his face into painful contortions before becoming still, the heart monitor stalling, then emitting a continuous bleep. Finding the volume control she turned it down low, then took hold of his wrist and felt for a pulse.

There was none.

She quietly opened the door and stepped back into the corridor, smiling at the officer when he glanced at her again.

"Still fast asleep, bless him." she whispered and strolled away.

Finding the same ladies toilet, she was relieved to see the bag still partly hidden. Removing all her disguises and putting them back in the holdall, she then sauntered out to her car and drove back to Hampstead.

"Good." said Jimmy when she described what she'd done. "Your nurses trainin' really 'as paid dividends girl. Now, let's sample yer other skills."

At eleven thirty, Spikings received a call from the Royal Marsden to say that Sir Marcus had died from a suspected heart attack, but they were puzzled as to how it had occurred.

He was instantly suspicious and told them to ensure the guard remained and didn't go off duty. Then he rang Harry's number, waking her up, and instructing that she and Dempsey meet him at the hospital.

Forty minutes later they were in Sir Marcus's room talking with the doctors who said his condition had been monitored every hour, the last being at eleven o' clock. They didn't know either, who had turned the volume down on the heart monitor.

Dempsey called Constable Dunn over.

"You saw nothing suspicious, Dunn?" he asked.

"No sir."

"Who's visited him since, say, eight o'clock?" asked Dempsey.

"There was the usual nurse at eight, a doctor and nurse at nine, another nurse at ten, a consultant soon after, then a nurse at eleven, sir."

A doctor standing close by, had overheard that report.

"Did you say a consultant, officer?"

"Yes doctor."

"Male or female?"

"Female."

Can you describe her, please?"

Constable Dunn described Ellie. The doctor looked at Spikings, Dempsey and Harry and shook his head.

"We don't have a consultant to monitor Sir Marcus, who matches that description, Chief Superintendent." said the doctor. "I chose the team personally, so I should know."

"You have CCTV don't you?" asked Dempsey.

"Yes we do." confirmed the doctor.

"Can you see to it that we get the corresponding tapes first thing in the morning, please doctor?" asked Spikings.

"Yes certainly." he agreed.

"Have them delivered to my home, please." instructed Spikings, handing him his contact details. "The address is on this card."

Spikings pulled Harry and Dempsey to one side. "This has got Jimmy Hofton's dirty little mits all over it!"

"Yeah, so how safe is Wilson?" remarked Dempsey.

"Do you know his address, sir?" asked Harry.

"No Sergeant, not offhand." replied Spikings. "I'll call you in the morning with it. Perhaps you'll check him out."

The next morning after the call came through from Spikings, Harry and Dempsey made their way to the address in Tower Hamlets.

Noticing the drawn curtains they desended the steps leading down from the pavement and knocked on the front door. Harry went over to the window and peered closely through a slight chink in the curtains.

"Dempsey." she said.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"I think I can see someone in a chair." she said. "It's not clear, but come here, what do you think?"

Dempsey screwed up his eyes and looked hard, then, without another word, went to the front door and kicked it hard at handle height.

The second it flew open the stench of death hit them, followed immediately by the sight of Wilson slumped in the armchair. They didn't need to see any more, it was obvious how he had died.

Back in the car, Dempsey called Spikings.

"Chief." said Dempsey. "Wilson's dead. Throat cut. Looks like Hofton's reacted here pretty damned quick too."

Spikings sighed. "Meet me at Makepeace's in an hour. I've got the CCTV tapes from the Marsden."

They drove back to Harry's and waited for Spikings.

"I suppose I'd better have some coffee ready." she murmured and busied herself preparing it, handing him a cup on arrival and after he'd taken his usual place in the armchair.

Spinning the tape through to the appropriate time, they then watched as the grainy black and white images showed Ellie arriving in the corridor, entering Sir Marcus's room and leaving again five minutes later.

"It may have been a heart attack, but in my book it's murder." said Dempsey.

"Yes." agreed Spikings, drinking his coffee. "I doubt it was difficult to induce, especially if that woman has had some sort of medical training. Presumably she's a friend of Hoftons."

"She looks very similar in build and height to the woman we saw with Hofton in Stringfellows, don't you think so Dempsey?" said Harry, pausing the tape and studying a still of Ellie.

"Yeah, dress her differently, take the wig off and you could be right, Makepeace." he replied, looking at the image.

They inserted another tape into the machine, recording the comings and goings in the car park. Not aware of the car Ellie drove, they didn't look twice at a white Jaguar arriving, but they certainly caught sight of her, without her disguise and carrying the holdall, getting into it and leaving.

"That's definitely the same woman who was in Stringfellows hanging off Jimmy Hofton." said Harry. "Shall we bring her in for questioning, sir?"

"No. It can wait." replied Spikings. "I don't want anything to get in the way of our plans to raid Hofton's Spanish mansion. If we took her into custody, Hofton might think we're getting too close for comfort and call off the next auction. In some ways, he's done us a couple of favours by taking out Wilson and Sir Marcus."

"Yeah, he's been afraid they'd start squealin'". said Dempsey. "So he's shut 'em up for keeps."

Harry's telephone began ringing.

"Hello." she answered.

"Harry it's Freddy." he said. "How are you my darling?"

"I'm fine Daddy, thanks." she replied.

"Good. Now, I'm looking for the Chief Super, is he with you?"

"Yes, I'll pass him over." said Harry, handing the 'phone to Spikings.

"Good morning sir." said Spikings.

"Yes good morning Chief Superintendent. I've got my lads arriving tonight, so I wanted to check with you if tomorrow would be acceptable to meet and run through some basic planning regarding our upcoming Spanish adventure."

"I don't have a problem with that." replied Spikings. "Would ten o'clock suit, sir?"

"Fine. See you then."

"We're meeting your father and his team tomorrow at ten." said Spikings, looking at Harry and handing back the 'phone.

There wasn't much else to discuss there and then, so Spikings left saying he and Chas would see them both at Winfield Hall the next day.

After he'd gone, Harry rang Freddy back and said that she and James would travel up that afternoon.

"Oh good." replied Freddy. "Captain Clipper and the rest are coming up tonight too, so it'll be nice to have you two here as well. See you later."

Harry and Dempsey arrived in the late afternoon, Freddy immediately opening a bottle of Krug to enjoy, whilst they awaited the arrival of the SAS team.

They told him the latest news regarding the two deaths.

"It looks pretty obvious that that despicable individual Jimmy Hofton's behind them, doesn't it?" stated Freddy. "Ah well, I don't suppose we'll lose much sleep over it."

"No." replied Harry. "But I think someone should tell Aunt Alice. She's expecting to go to Wimbledon this week with Sir Marcus!"

"Oh dear, yes." said Freddy, rubbing his forehead. "I'd forgotten about that. I'd better call her now and get it over with."

He left them and went to his study, returning after about fifteen minutes.

"How did she take it, Daddy?" asked Harry.

"Not well, Harry." replied Freddy. "I must get her up here for the weekend, if nothing else to show a bit of support. Irrespective of how we regarded Sir Marcus, she was falling for him, I'm afraid."

After the SAS team had arrived and settled in, they regaled their hosts over dinner with the many dangerous assignments they'd been involved with down the years, everyone retiring to bed with stories of derring do in their memories.

The next morning Spikings and Chas arrived, Spikings informing Harry and Dempsey that he'd got the results of Wilson's DNA swab proving that, although he was connected to the murder of their unidentified corpse, it didn't prove he actually killed her.

At least they were getting somewhere and settled down to discuss moving it forward.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14.**

During the previous evenings meal, Freddy had told the SAS team of Dempsey and Harry's personal relationship and they'd sworn their secrecy, finding it somewhat amusing that the ever efficient Chief Superintendent Spikings was, to some extent, being duped.

After Spikings had given Harry and Dempsey the findings of Wilsons's DNA results, he also told them that he'd made it common knowledge at SI-10 that they were back on Royal duties and the case regarding the dead girl was effectively closed for two reasons.

One, since Wilson's DNA had proved he'd come into contact with her, it was highly likely that the swab from Sir Marcus would be equally conclusive.

But two, now that both suspects were deceased, no charges could be brought against them because there could be no trial since the defendants cannot offer any defence.

"That is so sickening!" said Harry, clearly annoyed. "They've effectively got away with murder!"

"Depends upon your point of view, Sergeant." replied Spikings. "They are both _dead_!"

"I know, sir." she retorted. "But somehow rotting in jail would have been more fitting!"

"Yeah, too right, Harry." agreed Dempsey. "And we'll probably never know the identity of the murdered girl now, either."

"Alright you two." said Spikings. "What's done is done. We have to draw a line under it and move on, okay?"

They reluctantly agreed and so began discussions on the forthcoming raid of Hofton's mansion.

The first thing was how to get there.

They had to rule out commercial flights, seeing as they'd be carrying a lot of equipment, not least being a battery of formidable fire power.

Freddy stepped up to the plate here.

"With the clandestine help of those in the know." he said, tapping the side of his nose, his blue eyes twinkling. "I'll be able to secure a Sikorsky S-76C helicopter and pilot. It has a carrying capacity of twelve people, so it's just large enough to do the job, but with a flying range of three hundred and fifty miles, our one thousand mile flight will be interrupted three times for re-fuelling and take roughly eight hours"

Harry shook her head slowly, smiling and glancing at Dempsey. She knew her father had contacts everywhere, but was staggered as to just how far they reached. Dempsey smiled back, clearly impressed with him.

Freddy wasn't finished.

"There's an airfield at La Parra, which is twenty odd miles from Cadiz so we'll land there and travel up to San Pedro by Landrover. I'll see to the necessary paperwork."

"Freddy." she said. "We think Hofton has the local Guardia in his pocket so I hope his tentacles haven't stuck to any flight officials!"

"Oh, don't worry about that Harry." he replied, smiling. "The paperwork won't be seen by any officials, but will be available should it be necessary."

"But won't we be picked up on radar?" asked Dempsey. "That's gonna come to the attention of flight control."

"Not if we fly under the radar, Lieutenant," answered Freddy. "And we're going to time our arrival in the dead of night. No-one will be expecting us and I'll wager any skeleton staff will be either dozing or asleep."

"Do we have to use an airport?" asked Dempsey. "Why don't we just land in a field some place?"

"It's a case of hiding in plain sight, James." explained Freddy. "A big helicopter like the one were using, setting itself down in the pitch dark would need powerful lights to land and that could actually bring unwanted attention."

"What will we use as a base, sir?" asked Chas.

"I've organised that, Mr Jarvis." replied Freddy. "We''ll be in a rented villa near San Pedro and there'll be three hire cars to collect the following day."

He paused before continuing.

"Now, I need to tell you about how we handle the aftermath." said Freddy. "First of all, I expect you're right Harry, in suspecting that Mr Hofton has corrupted the local police. But I have an old friend and contact who is Spanish and still close to those that matter in the government. He is putting a team together who will move in after we've rounded up the gang and take them into custody until they can be extradited back to the UK. One of his men will meet us from the helicopter with a Landrover to take us to the villa."

"You've certainly got an enormous amount covered already, your lordship." said Spikings, for once not the driving force, though mightily impressed all the same. "Had we better look at the mansions lay out now?"

They spent the rest of the day pouring over the photographs Dempsey and Harry had taken and using them to plan, in detail, the actual raid. By the end of it, everyone knew their role and the specific timing involved.

At Jimmy Hoftons place, his telephone was ringing.

"Yeah!" he said, then waited for the inevitable beeps."Whatcha want?"

"Just to let you know that Dempsey and Harry Makepeace are back on Royal duties and since Sir Marcus has had a heart attack and Wilson's throat's been cut, the case against them's been canned!"

"Oh dear me." replied Hofton, chuckling. "Must remember to send flowers. Now listen, you just keep your eyes an ears open, son. 'An no more of yer moanin' either. Otherwise you'll be joinin' the other two unfortunates. And with you gone, they'll be no more need for our little friend. Get my drift, boy?"

"Loud and clear!"

"That's the ticket. Toodlepip."

With secrecy paramount, Dempsey and Harry suggested to Spikings that they should stay at Winfield Hall until the time came to leave for Spain.

They didn't want to risk their cover being blown by the cuckoo should he decide to watch their homes, especially since they were supposed to be in Canada with the Duke of Edinburgh, visiting the Last Mountain Lake in Regina, Saskatchewan.

Spikings agreed, and that night after he'd left, they drove back to Harry's so she could pack a couple of suitcases, then on to Dempsey's apartment for him to do the same, returning to Winfield Hall in the early hours of Wednesday morning.

During the day, Spikings called to confirm that, as expected, Sir Marcus's DNA matched that of the dead girl.

He surmised, correctly, although he'd never know it, that Sir Marcus had had sex with the girl, discovered she was pregnant and strangled her. He also assumed correctly that Sir Marcus, for all his perversion and evil, wouldn't have had the stomach to cut off her fingers, so gave that task to someone else, most likely Wilson.

For the next two weeks or so, Dempsey and Harry were effectively in limbo, so decided to enjoy their free time making use of the weather, which had turned hot again, in between assisting Freddy in any preparations he might require their help on.

That weekend Aunt Alice came to stay, so they had their hands full comforting her for the loss of Sir Marcus.

They were sitting at a table on the terrace, sheltered from the burning sun by a large umbrella, sipping chilled white wine.

"I know he was a rogue." she wailed, dabbing her eyes and fanning herself. "But I was falling in love with him. And I was so looking forward to our day at Wimbledon. Oh dear, why can't I find someone like you James, darling. Maybe a bit older, of course."

"I'm sure you will, Aunt Alice." said Harry, taking hold of Dempsey's hand. "The thing is not to look too hard. Falling in love with James was the furthest thing from my mind, but suddenly it just happened. And now I can't imagine my life without him."

"Oh yes." said Alice, sighing heavily. "So romantic. Anyone can see you two are a match made in heaven. You're right, of course you are. I'll just start going to my dinner parties again and maybe Mr Right will pop into my life."

"That's the spirit, Alice dear." said Freddy, rolling his eyes at the other two.

"Will you be going to his funeral?" asked Dempsey.

"Of course, yes." replied Alice. "It's next Tuesday near his home in Warwickshire. I'll be very sad but it has to be done, hasn't it."

By the end of the weekend however, she was in better spirits and left in a lighter mood than the one in which she'd arrived.

After she'd gone, Dempsey and Harry saw little of Freddy.

He was squirrelled away in his study, busy finalising all the details for Spain and, if the truth be told, thoroughly enjoying himself.

As a retired Government espionage chief, retirement, by comparison, was pretty dull but now he felt alive again, rekindling old contacts, pulling strings and calling in old favours.

They made comprehensive use of their free time together, walking in the early morning, swimming during the heat of the day, playing tennis in the cool of the evening and making love in the dead of night, so when Freddy called them into his study the day before their flight, they came back to earth with a resounding bump, when the realisation hit them that their 'holiday' had ended.

Being consummate professionals though, they were back on it immediately and beginning to relish the thought of bringing Hofton and his evil crew to justice at last.

Hopeful too in unmasking the cuckoo, who had so comprehensively disrupted their working lives, not to mention security at SI-10.

That Wednesday night, Captain Clipper, Sergeants Flint, Best and Poulter and Corporals Spencer and Bates all arrived within an hour of each other, already alert and spoiling for a fight.

An army marches on its stomach, as the saying goes, so Freddy had organised a traditional English dinner of beef stew, dumplings, mashed potato, peas and carrots with bottles of beer to wash it all down with.

If there'd been any doubt at all as to whether Harry was one of them, she soon dispelled it, tucking into the meal with gusto - and a bottle of beer!

Dempsey's heart swelled at the sight of it. 'What a gal!' he thought.

On Thursday morning, Spikings and Chas completed the team and they spent until lunchtime running through the plans again, the rest of the afternoon given over to relaxing.

Harry and Dempsey had to assume their working partnership mode, much to their frustration, but to the quiet amusement of the soldiers.

Just before six in the evening, the familiar sound of a helicopter could be heard, the big Sikorsky coming into view above the trees and landing gently on the lawns.

After having been loaded up. everybody climbed in, the pilot introducing himself, then opening the taps, the rotors clawing the air for lift, and once in the air, the helicopter dipping its nose and roaring off across the sky, taking its passengers and cargo on the eight hour journey, flying very low so as to avoid radar detection and, after three fuel stops, eventually landing at La Parra at two in the morning.

As Freddy had anticipated, no-one in the sleepy little airport challenged them. He confirmed with the pilot that he must be back at midnight on Saturday, hovering over Hofton's mansion and if a flare went up, it meant operation successful and okay to land.

If a flare failed to materialise, then he was to fly immediately to the co-ordinates on the paper Freddy handed to him, where Freddy's Spanish contact would be alerted.

They were soon loaded up and away in the twelve seater long wheel base Landrover that was waiting for them, and heading for a sizeable four bed villa on the outskirts of San Pedro that Freddy had secured on a long weekend rental.

It was nearly four in the morning when they finally pulled up outside the villa. They thanked their driver, who drove away in his car and then took another half an hour to unload their equipment, using one of the bedrooms in which to house it all.

Freddy, Spikings and Harry had the other three rooms, all en-suite and Dempsey bunked down with Chas and the rest of the lads in sleeping bags in the main lounge.

After just a few hours sleep, Freddy was up and took the three corporals with him in the Landrover to collect three hire cars from San Pedro, all five seater VW Passat saloons.

With Dempsey driving, Harry, Spikings and Chas as his passengers in one of the cars, followed by Freddy and his team in the Landrover, they drove out through San Pedro and up to the top of the mountain, passing the entrance to Hoftons mansion on the way there, Harry pointing it out with an arm through her open window.

The whole team took to their binoculars and swept the mansion grounds, familiarising themselves with it's layout. Once satisfied, they then stopped in San Pedro at a tapas bar for lunch, returning to the villa by early afternoon.

Dempsey and Harry changed into their black night clothes and, that night, carried out a repeat surveillance of a few weeks ago, Harry hiding back in amongst the 'stopper' and Dempsey up on the mountain top, covering the arrival of Hofton's helicopter.

When they returned to the villa, they confirmed what they'd seen.

"The same number of cars, including the white stretched limo with Arab plates, arrived at the mansion gates." she said, handing over to Dempsey who confirmed that Hofton was accompanied by his two bodyguards and black mistress.

"Good." said Spikings, relieved. "At least we know the cuckoo hasn't discovered, somehow, that we're out here. So, we're all set for tomorrow night then."

"Yes indeed, Mr Spikings." confirmed Freddy. "Now that we know they're all here, I think it would be prudent that we dine separately tonight, rather than in a large group. Keep it to three at the most."

They went their separate ways for dinner, Dempsey, Harry and Freddy taking one car and driving over to Puerto Banus, Spikings and Chas taking another and going into Marbella, the six soldiers motoring into San Pedro, three taking the last car, the final three using the Landrover.

"Freddy." said Harry, over dinner. "I always knew you must have been pretty effective when working for the government, but I didn't realise until now, just _how _effective!"

"That's kind of you, Harry darling." replied Freddy, smiling. "I'm thoroughly enjoying getting stuck in again!"

"Yeah Freddy." said Dempsey. "You really seem to have all the bases covered."

"Well let's hope we won't need some of them." he answered. "The way we've organised ourselves, it should be pretty straightforward. We'll have the element of surprise to our benefit and it appears that the only firepower against us will be in the hands of those two bodyguards."

Up at the mansion, a second helicopter was landing in the grounds, out of which jumped six men, all heavily armed.

Jimmy Hofton watched as they ran towards the house, then turned to the other faces watching too.

"That Wilson fella, Sir Marcus's driver, was in custody with the filth for twenty-four hours." growled Hofton. "'An I ain't sure whether he started chirpin'. Our inside man hasn't said nothin' but that don't surprise me 'cos they know they've got a mole in their midst now. In fact he's becoming useless. Anyway, I thought we'd have a little extra insurance this time, all the same."

The other faces nodded in agreement, then went back to their meals.

When Harry, Dempsey, Freddy, Spikings and Chas returned, Captain Clipper and the team were waiting for them.

"Something's up." said Dempsey, noting his expression. "What is it?"

"While we were in San Pedro, we saw another helicopter land up in the mountains, just about where the mansion is located." replied Clipper. "I think there may be a bigger welcoming party awaiting us tomorrow night."

Despite this news, the following night the operation would be on and they were all fired up for it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15.**

"In that case, Captain." replied Freddy. "I suggest you and one other, take your night vision glasses and pop up to the mountain top to survey the mansion grounds for any signs of activity."

"Yes sir" replied Clipper. "Corporal Bates, you come with me."

The two of them collected their equipment, jumped into one of the cars and headed out.

Twenty minutes later they'd parked the car amongst the trees and were now lying flat on the ground, glasses to their eyes scanning the mansion lawns, the house lit up like a Christmas tree, every room with lights switched on, each window burning brightly.

"What do you see, Jonnie?" asked Clipper, training his binoculars on a figure walking round the edge of the swimming pool, the water lit up in turquoise blue by submerged lights.

"Two guys standing by one of the windows, sir." replied Corporal Bates. "Another by the pool."

"Yes I've picked him up." said Clipper, focussing on the two Bates had seen. "Wait a sec. There are two more in the shadows. Looks as though they've been patrolling round the edge of the lawns."

"So that's five, sir." said Bates.

"No, six." said Clipper, as he spied a further guard emerging from the house.

After another half an hour had passed, they were satisfied there were no more than half a dozen extra personnel to deal with on the raid.

Returning to the villa, they reported their findings.

"I wonder why Hofton's brought extra protection this time." puzzled Harry, looking round at everybody. "You don't think the cuckoo has anything to do with it, do you?"

"Hard to say." replied Dempsey. "I guess if the cuckoo'd got wind of us comin' out here, Hofton woulda called off the auction. He might be relaxed 'bout a gunfight at the OK Corral, but I doubt his weasle buddies are."

"I agree, Dempsey, despite your paralleling Jimmy Hofton with Ike Clanton!" moaned Spikings. "But don't forget we had Wilson for twenty four hours. Maybe he thinks he talked."

"Well, whatever the reason." broke in Freddy. "They _are_ all here, albeit with additional firepower. But if there are only six, I think we can handle it."

"What about your Spanish friend, Freddy?" asked Harry. "Can we call him in for additional help?"

"Alfredo Garcia is his name, Harry." replied Freddy. "No, he can't be seen to get involved in this as far any actual fighting is concerned. He and his men will be here at the villa before we leave tomorrow night, but only to watch over those we bring back."

"I suggest we turn in for the night." said Spikings. "There's not a lot more to discuss. Our strategy remains the same, we've just got to keep our eyes peeled more than ever tomorrow."

The next day the atmosphere could be cut with a knife.

Although supremely confident of their abilities, the adrenalin was pumping and the anticipation was palpable amongst every single member of the team.

The SAS veterans had been here so many times before they were used to it and one would have assumed, untouched by impending danger. But they knew they were only as good as their last assignment and this resolve had brought them much success during their illustrious careers.

Harry however, just wished she and Dempsey could be alone together. They too, of course, had faced considerable adversity as a partnership but it had usually been just the two of them drawing on each other, their sixth sense and unique telepathic connection scoring dividends.

But now there was little, or no, opportunity for them to relax together without raising Spikings or Chas's eyebrows, so they had to draw inspiration and confidence from each other by proxy.

As the afternoon shadows lengthened, the soldiers collected the weapons together, all of which they had dismantled, cleaned and re-assembled and consisting of a Colt 9mm SMG sub machine gun, an Intratec TEC-DC9 sub machine pistol and three revolvers, a Browning BDA and Glock18 semi-automatic pistols and KS-23 pump action carbine.

Alfredo Garcia then arrived with his team of government detectives, Freddy doing the honours and introducing everyone. Alfredo, as one would expect, was especially taken with Harry, but not in a leacherous way, more a man used to being around beautiful women. He'd known Freddy for fifty years and was at his wedding to Harry's mother.

"So beautiful." he said, quietly to his old friend. "So like her Mama."

The afternoon turned to dusk and the time had arrived to get things under way. They all piled into the Landrover, driven by one of Alfredo's men and set off for their destination - the beach at Tarifa.

Reaching there in pitch darkness, Dempsey, from memory, guided the driver to the pathway entrance. After everyone had got out and collected their weapons, the driver parked amongst some vegetation about fifty yards further on and waited.

They had deliberately left it until darkness had fallen in case the usual nudists were back on the beach, thus attracting the local Guardia to clear them off, something they didn't want to encounter for obvious reasons.

All wearing black, with balaclavas fitted, they swiftly moved down the sandy path, everyone branching out into different locations until the entire beach was covered, Harry and Dempsey close by each other, Freddy a few yards away and Spikings and Chas in amongst the soldiers.

It was a typical Spanish summer night, warm breeze, cloudless, star filled sky and a bright moon illuminating the beach and water.

Now the wait was on, everyone psyched up and ready.

Eventually the sound of a boat out at sea corresponded with a diesel engine approaching down the path.

Everyone braced themselves.

The truck drove down the beach to the waters edge, its headlights flashing, a single spotlight out on the ocean beaming back a reply.

The hidden watchers waited until the boat slid up onto the sand, two negros leaping off, shouting at the group of young black girls to get into the truck which was now parked, its engine ticking over.

A couple of girls tripped and were immediately set upon by one of the black men, beating them with his baton and continually kicking them with his booted foot.

Captain Clipper, his whistle ready in his mouth, was having to wait until all the girls were safely in the truck, knowing the sight before them was fuelling the anger around him.

When the last girl was punched into the truck, he blew it and suddenly all hell broke loose.

Firing their weapons into the sky, they all rushed at the four negroes, two from the boat and two from the truck, who didn't know what had hit them as the pent up anger of ten men and one woman was unleashed on them.

They were quickly overpowered, many a surreptitious fist finding its mark on noses, cheeks and chins and they were made to huddle together on the sand, bleeding from numerous cuts and surrounded by gun barrels pointing at them, locked and loaded.

The Landrover then came bouncing onto the beach, pulling up next to the truck.

Harry quickly got all the girls out of it and transferred them into the other vehicle, nearly weeping at the sight of them, soiled, half dressed, frightened, bewildered, hungry, thirsty and stinking to high heaven.

The soldiers then knocked each negro unconscious, cuffing their wrists and ankles and bundling them into the small space behind the seats in the back of the Landrover, piling them on top of each other to make room.

"See how you like it, chummies." said Sergeant Flint, echoing everybody's sentiments.

"Ok." said Freddy to the driver. "Take the girls back to the villa, let them shower and get cleaned up, then feed them, please. They've been to hell and back. As for these four, lock them up in the basement until we join you."

"Si senor Lord Winfield." replied the driver, saluting him, then setting off back to San Pedro.

"Right everyone. Phase One complete and a success, well done." said Freddy. "Now for Phase Two."

They all piled into the truck and started out on their journey, Captain Clipper at the wheel, Freddy and Spikings on the double seat next to him, the rest in the back sitting on wooden benches that ran down each side of the vehicle.

Harry had made sure she sat next to Dempsey and, unseen down at their hips, slid her hand into his, he gripping it in recognition.

They reached the mansion after an hour and forty-five minutes, Captain Clipper blasting the horn three times, something Harry had noted when she'd originally witnessed the trucks arrival a few weeks back.

"Ok everyone, on your toes." said Freddy, the gates swinging wide in front of them.

As the truck trundled slowly along the approach to the mansion, so each occupant in the back jumped clear and made for the myriad of hedges and vegetation bordering the driveway, crouching low, weapons at the ready.

When the mansion came into view, Clipper halted the truck, the three of them getting out and swiftly running for cover.

Nothing happened immediately.

Then a curious guard wandered up to it, first of all opening the drivers door and peering in, then walking round to the back looking for the expected occupants.

In that instant, Sergeant Best appeared out of thin air and drove his weapon into the back of the guards head, knocking him senseless.

Quickly pulling him into the undergrowth, he gagged him then cable tied his wrists and ankles, before quietly melting away again.

Meanwhile Dempsey, with Harry behind him and followed by Chas, had reached the door to the laundry room and, finding it unlocked, quickly entered, closing it quietly behind them.

They could hear music and voices, occasionaly interrupted by laughter, emanating from what they guessed was the immense lounge they'd seen on their last visit.

"Got 'em all in one bunch!" whispered Dempsey to the other two.

Out in the grounds, away from the mansion, Sergeant Poulter and Corporal Spencer had come across two more guards, standing still and smoking a cigarette each.

The two SAS veterans looked at each other, shaking their heads in disbelief. These dopes were supposed to be on guard!

They quietly sneaked up behind them and, in unison, tapped each one on the shoulder. As they turned round, they both smiled at them, then, with the butts of their weapons hit them in the solar plexus and, as they doubled up, used the butts again, whipping them up under the chin, both guards dropping like two sacks of potatoes. They were gagged, cable tied and dragged out of sight.

Inside, Dempsey, his Magnum in hand, Harry and Chas with a Browning semi-auto pistol each, had crept up to the door of the lounge.

"What's 'appened to those bleedin' girls then." Hofton was saying. "They should've been brought in by now."

Dempsey looked at the other two and nodded, then barged the door open.

"Your playthings ain't comin' Hofton, you sonofabitch pervert!" shouted Dempsey, as all three levelled their weapons at the startled group of men. "Make one move an' I'll happily blow ya brains out!"

"Oh I don't think so." replied Hofton, at the sound of hammers being cocked behind them.

"Whatcha think Joe." said Eddie. "Should I blow 'is 'ead off?"

"Nah, not just yet bruv." said Joe, throwing his arm round Harry's throat and yanking her backwards. "Tell ya what though, she's a bit of alright ain't she."

Demspey took a step forward, his fists bunched.

"Don't even take another step, dick 'ed." warned Joe. "I'll waste 'er, pretty as she is."

"Drop yer heaters!" ordered Eddie. "An' kick 'em away."

Jimmy Hofton picked them up.

"Now, gentlemen and lady." he said. "Where are my girls?"

"Somewhere you won't find them, Hofton." answered Chas.

"Well you're gonna tell me sunshine." growled Hofton. "Now, you can make it easy and painless, or difficult and very painful. Perhaps we'll start with blondie there."

Joe grabbed Harry's arm and bent it high up behind her back. She uttered a painful groan, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth against the agony.

"Don't you dare tell him, either of you!" she gasped, the pain excruciating.

"Oh beautiful _and _a toughie eh?" said Hofton, walking up to Harry, before punching her in the stomach, Joe holding her up as her legs gave way under her.

Dempsey had never felt so utterly helpless, every nerve in his body feeling the pain Harry was enduring and rueing being so careless and getting them into this mess. He'd automatically assumed these two gorillas were out in the grounds directing the guards.

"Leave her alone, you yella bellied piece of shit! " he shouted.

"Ah, a hero." snarled Hofton, switching his attention to Dempsey."You have feelings for her eh?" He brought his knee up into Dempsey's groin, laughing as he fell to his knees, then kicking him in the face and laughing even harder, as blood streamed from Dempseys nose.

Outside, Captain Clipper, Sergeant Flint and Corporal Bates were hunting down the other three guards, using their night vision face masks.

"Split up." ordered Clipper, the other two fanning out, but staying close to the trees, using the cover they afforded.

Sergeant Flint began creeping slowly towards a clump of vegetation when suddenly an arm went round his throat.

Ducking down and ramming his elbow backwards, he heard a grunt as it found it's target, the arm releasing him. He spun round quickly, bringing his fist back and with the full force of his strength behind it, punched the guard squarely on the nose, causing him to sit down hard onto the ground.

Cocking his Colt, he shoved the ten and a half inch barrel into the guards face, putting his fingers to his lips. When the guard stupidly tried to kick Sergeant Flint's feet from under him, the butt of the Colt hit him in the face.

He was gagged and tied up like the others.

Meanwhile Captain Clipper had a gun in his back.

"What are you doing, senor?" asked a voice.

"Oh, just out for a stroll, old man. You?" replied Clipper.

"I think you come with me, senor."

"No I don't think so." said Corporal Bates, kicking him in the back of his knees, watching him drop, then knocking him unconscious.

"Thank you, Jonnie." smiled Clipper, as they gagged and tied him up. "Five down and one to go, I think."

They swept the area with their masks, but could see nothing. Suddenly they heard a rustling behind them and spinning round saw the guard, his gun raised and pointing straight at them.

"Hands!" he said, gesturing skywards with his weapon. "Up!"

Still holdinjg their respective machine guns in their hands, they raised their arms, the guard inching slowly towards them.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"SAS." said Clipper. "From England."

"SAS!?" replied the guard, his mouth dropping open.

"Yes." said a voice behind him. "And I suggest you don't piss us off!"

The guard swung round, Sergeant Flints face grinning at him, his Colt levelled at his chest.

"Drop it, there's a good lad." he said, the guard obeying and putting his hands in the air.

"Ok Sergeant, well done." said Clipper. "Isolate him, then follow me."

Meanwhile Freddy and Spikings had found their way into the house.


	16. Cuckoo in the nest Chapter 16

**Chapter 16.**

They'd followed Dempsey's way in, via the laundry room and had quietly crept into the galleried reception hall, when they suddenly caught sight of the open door to the lounge.

Through it, they could see Dempsey on his knees, blood pouring from his nose, when Hofton kicked him again in the stomach, doubling him up in pain.

The other five members of the trafficking ring looked on with little interest, content to stay out of it and just watch, having dished out torture and pain whilst going about their own specific, individual business back on their home soil.

"If you don't start talkin' mate, we're really gonna set about Miss Makepeace 'ere." Hofton was warning. "You wanna see 'er bleed? I've had about enough of you two to last me a frickin' lifetime, bargin' into my gaff at 'ome and now here."

"They've got Harry too!" whispered Freddy, instantly worried about his daughter as well as close to fatherly concern for Dempsey.

"Hofton's goons must be tooled up and covering them." Spikings answered under his breath, gesturing silently for them to move to the door.

"Now, where are my girls!?" Hofton demanded once more.

"Go to hell you dumbass creep" growled Dempsey, knowing only too well that this was going to make matters a whole lot worse for him and Harry, but also knowing she'd never forgive him if he revealed the whereabouts of those girls to save her and if he showed any sign of weakness they'd really go to town on them both.

She cried out again in pain as Joe moved her arm even higher up her back, fearing her shoulder could dislocate if he forced it any higher. Hofton kicked Dempsey again in the face, splitting his lip this time.

He then looked over to Eddie, who drew a knife out of his pocket, grinning as he approached Harry and began running the blade lightly over her cheeks.

"Be a pity to spoil that pretty little face, wouldn't it lads, eh?" said Hofton. "Put 'er on 'er knees!"

Joe forced Harry to her knees, her arm still bent up behind her, the pain so indescribable, she was close to passing out.

Creeping up to the door, Freddy and Spikings had raised their weapons in readiness and were about to make their presence felt, when a shot skimmed across the side of Freddy's head, drawing blood and enough to knock him off his feet, his pistol clattering across the floor.

Spikings swung round and saw Ellie at the top of the stairs, gun in hand and aiming again at him. He fired back, the bullet striking her in the heart, killing her instantly.

Her lifeless body tumbled down the staircase like a rag doll, landing with a sickening thud on the hard, marble tiled floor, blood beginning to ooze from her mouth and ears.

In the confusion that followed, Dempsey launched himself at Joe, knocking him to the floor, whilst Chas rabbit punched the back of Eddie's neck, rendering him partly unconscious. Dempsey was a man possessed as he lifted Joe up by the lapel with his left hand and, with his bunched right fist, rained punches into his face, one after the other.

Unseen by Spikings, Hofton pulled a small pistol out of his pocket.

"Shoot my girl would you Spikings, you bastard!" and fired at him, catching him in his right arm, the semi automatic flying out of his hand from the bullets impact.

Hofton then moved swiftly to Harry and pointed his gun at her forehead, cocking the hammer.

"Back off, all of you!" he shouted. "I'll kill 'er!"

Joe, his face all messed up by Dempsey, got up and pistol whipped him, kicking him again as he fell to the floor. Eddie took hold of Chas by the collar and head butted him.

The sound of gunshots had alerted the SAS veterans outside and they quickly assembled into a group and began searching for a way into the house, finding, as the others had, the laundry room door wide open.

Silently making their way to the hallway, they soon heard what was going on. Reversing their steps, they retreated back to the laundry room.

Captain Clipper tapped his weapon on one of the ceramic sinks.

Hofton heard it, as did everyone else.

"You got more geezers with yer, Spikings?" he said. "Eddie, Joe, go and get 'em. The more the merrier eh?"

The two heavies walked out to the hallway, gripping the handles of their revolvers, looking left and right, expecting to see the potential victims at any moment.

Clipper tapped the sink lightly again, Eddie pointing Joe towards the laundry room and nodding his head in its direction. They crept up to the doorway, cocking the hammers on their handguns.

"Come on out 'ere." ordered Eddie. "'An we won't 'urt yer."

Sergeant Flint emitted a high pitched whimper, then joined Clipper who'd moved the door slightly, so they could get in behind it.

"It's only anuvver bird, Eddie." sniggered Joe. "Come on out love, no point stayin' hidden no more. We know you're there."

Nothing moved, no-one appeared.

Sighing, the two of them walked into the laundry room.

Flint and Clipper were immediately on them, their forearms round their throats and with one quick silent movement snapped both their necks, catching them before they fell and silently dragging their lifeless bodies to one side.

"What are you two doin' out there!" shouted Hofton. "Hurry up and get back in 'ere!"

Meanwhile, Corporal Poulter had found a junction box under one of the sinks, gesturing to Clipper using his fingers to imitate scissors.

Clipper nodded. Poulter pulled a fuse. Instantly all the lights went out.

Harry was the first to react.

She swiped her arm across Hoftons, knocking the pistol out of his grip, then with a bunched fist, socked him hard on the bridge of his nose, ignoring the pain that seared through her hand and shot up her wrist.

Chas leapt for a gun and trained it on the other five villains.

Dempsey joined Harry and caught Hofton with an upper cut right on the point of his chin, knocking him out.

Not caring what it might convey, Dempsey grabbed her, pulling her into him, she clinging to him, shaking with relief, longing to be alone with him.

In was only momentary. As much as they would have wanted it, they couldn't linger and released each other to go to the aid of Freddy and Spikings, both looking pale, Spikings clearly in pain from the wound to his arm.

Harry helped her father to his feet, Dempsey doing the same with Spikings.

"How you feelin' Chief?"

"I'll live Dempsey." he replied. "How's Lord Winfield?"

"He looks okay."

Harry had her arm around her father.

"I'm fine Harry." said Freddy, forcing a smile. "She was a dreadful shot. Luckily it was just a graze. Nothing worse than that, darling. How's James?"

"A bit bruised and I expect feeling a bit sorry for himself." she said, smiling over at him. "It wasn't his fault. Chas and I were quite happy to follow him in here. We really thought we'd rounded them all up at once. We thought Hofton's two pet rottwielers were directing operations outside."

"And the Chief?"

"He's taken a bullet in his arm." replied Harry. "We'll get you both to a hospital very soon."

Corporal Poulter replaced the fuse, flooding the room with light once more and joined his five colleagues as they ran into the lounge, immediately relieving Chas of his charges, cable tieing their wrists and marching them out to the truck.

Sitting them down, they then bound their ankles.

"Stay with this lot, Bates." ordered Clipper. "And if they move an inch, shoot 'em!"

Bates stared at the cowering group, disdain clear in his face.

"Not so tough now are you - lily livered twats!"

It was approaching midnight and, as arranged, the Sikorsky hovered into view over the lawns. Captain Clipper immediately fired a flare and like an orange fireball streaking into the night sky, its light threw a misty haze over the grounds as it curved through the air eventually reaching the apex of its arc, then peetering out before falling to earth.

After the helicopter had landed, Freddy, Spikings and Harry climbed aboard, Chas saying he'd stay with the other group since all he was nursing was a few bruises.

Dempsey called Clipper over before joining them in the chopper.

"I'm gonna go with Freddy and Spikings to a hospital an' get 'em patched up." he said. "Perhaps the guys'd like to take that stretched limo back with 'em. They deserve a treat! Tell Alfredo what's happened. He'll need to organise removing the dead bodies and these cars need impounding. Can you get one of the lads to pick us up later?"

"Yes, will do, James." replied Clipper. "Get yourself and Harry seen to at the hospital. You're looking a bit banged up and I suspect Harry could do with a touch of TLC."

"Yeah well, I can take care of the last bit." he said, smiling.

By the time they all arrived back at the villa, Alfredo had already gone, but would be back tomorrow.

He left a message saying he'd taken the truck and Landrover to transport the six guards, four negroes and six ring members into custody and the limo to take the ten young girls into care. Eight of them wished to be re-united with their families, which he would be organising the next day, the remaining two would be found foster homes since they suspected their fathers had sold them.

Spikings' arm had been tended to and put in a sling and Freddy was sporting a bandage to the graze across the side of his forehead.

After Spikings and Chas had finally fallen asleep, Dempsey and Harry sneaked away for a bit of eagerly awaited down time together, walking through the garden and out onto the beach, which the villa fronted.

They walked hand in hand along the sand, before sitting down together, Dempsey immediately putting his arm around her, Harry snuggling into her favourite position by nestling into his shoulder.

"Well angel." said Dempsey, lightly stroking her arm. "We got 'em!"

"Yes." she sighed, tingling at his touch. "But we've still got to find the cuckoo. How do we go about that?"

"We might start with Hofton." said Dempsey. "I mean he was controllin' him. I guess we'll go into the office and see what gives. Maybe we can flush him out usin' that creep!"

She looked up at him, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "I don't know how I coped seeing you being kicked and hurt so much." she whispered, reaching up and gently touching his swollen lip.

"_You _don't know you coped!" he replied, looking down into her watering eyes. "Jeezus, you were in so much pain I nearly lost it! I wanted to tear that goons goddam head off!"

"You nearly did when you got the chance." she said, recalling how he flew at Joe.

"Hell yeah, 'an that was one hell of a punch you landed on that slimeball Hofton!" he replied, laughing at the memory, then turning serious again. "How's the arm?"

"Sore." she answered.

"Yeah, I bet." he said, stroking it again, once more sending tingles through her body.

They went silent for a while, then turned their heads to each other at exactly the same moment, she carefully, gently, touching his lips with hers. Suddenly all the pent up tension and thwarted passion of the last few days was released. On that warm summer night, only the moon and stars were witness to two heavenly matched people, deeply in love with each other and demonstrating it with total abandon on the deserted beach.

The next morning Alfredo visited, as promised, and brought them up to speed with developments.

"We have discovered the chain that leads back to those involved with kidnapping the girls in North Africa." he said, matter of factly. "We'll be rounding them up in the next few days."

"That was darn quick!" remarked Dempsey.

"Yes Senor Dempsey." replied Alfredo, smiling. "We don't necessarily obey the rules when wishing to obtain answers to our questions. We tend to treat scum as, well, scum."

The veterans chuckled, well aware, like everyone else, that those negro bullies had got what was coming to them.

"Now, Freddy, Chief Superintendent. I'm in the process of arranging various deportation orders for the gang members. The Arabian is in fact a resident of Spain, so we will be handling his conviction in this country. Four of the others are from different countries, Portugal, France, Germany and Albania. They will be dealt with in their own countries. You will need to duplicate all your evidence and send it to the relevant authoritiies. Senor Hofton will be handed over to you when you're ready. Oh and incidentally, the bodies have been recovered and the cars impounded."

"That's excellent, thank you Alfredo." said Freddy. "I'm sure I speak for everyone when I say we couldn't have done it without you."

"Oh now, Freddy." he replied. "Mine was the easy bit!"

"Alfredo, you were a vital cog in the wheel." said Freddy. "I do have one more favour to ask though. A friend of mine is sending his personal aeroplane to fly us back to the UK and I'd be grateful if we could cadge a lift to Malaga airport."

"Of course compadre." he replied. "Just say when."

"Wonderful. I'll call you." said Freddy, seeing him out.

"Well everyone." he said, walking back into the room. "I suggest we enjoy today and get off back to blighty tomorrow."

"That's fine by me." said Spikings, the others nodding their agreement.

"Good. I've booked a table for lunch for all of us at the Marbella Beach Club Hotel." said Freddy, glancing at Harry. "It comes highly recommended. Despite some of us looking like the walking wounded, I'd say the mission was a success and should be celebrated."

In high spirits they drove in convoy over to the hotel and enjoyed a lively lunch, returning tired, rather drunk yet elated at their result, especially as no-one lost their life.

The next morning, Alfredo sent three limousines to take them to Malaga airport, the cars driving straight onto the tarmac and up to a gleaming Gulfstream jet, property of Lord Gilmot, an old Etonian chum of Freddy's.

Jimmy Hofton wouldn't stop talking, babbling away with threats, challenges and expletives.

Sergeant Flint had had enough and put his face within inches of Hofton's.

"If you don't shut the hell up, you'll spend the rest of this journey unconscious!"

Hofton got the message.

Two hours later they landed at Denham airfield, not far from Uxbridge, where the Sikorsky and a patrol car was waiting for them. Hofton was bundled into the police car and taken to the cells at SI-10, the rest were airlifted to Winfield Hall.

Freddy had radio'd ahead to his kitchen staff, who prepared a simple meal of fish and chips, with bread and butter on the side, beer or white wine to drink.

By mid afternoon everyone had bid their farewells, Chas driving Spikings back.

"We have to unmask the cuckoo." Spikings had said. "So come into the office tomorrow."

"Sure Chief." replied Dempsey.

Sitting on the terrace later, enjoying the quiet ambience of Freddy's garden, Harry leaned over and kissed Dempsey.

"What was that for?" he asked, his eyes smiling at her as he swigged back his beer.

"Oh just because you're you." she said, smiling back, taking a sip of her wine. "When you face danger like we've just done, it concentrates the mind."

He reached across and pulled her face close to his, looking into her stunning blue eyes and kissing her back, recalling how desperate he felt whilst she was at Hoftons mercy. "I know what you mean, princess. I love you."

"Deeply, madly, passionately?" she asked, screwing her eyes up, pretending to interrogate him.

"Deeply, madly, passionately, especially passionately!" he laughed.

Freddy walked over from the house and broke the love birds up.

"Now you two." he said, as he approached. "Are you staying the night?"

"We'd love to Daddy." replied Harry, but we're in the office early tomorrow so we'll have to be leaving soon. "You've done a fabulous job for us. I'm so proud of you."

"Yeah Freddy. Spectacular." added Dempsey.

"I enjoyed it." he replied. "Well, most of it! You both went through it a bit though, didn't you."

"Just a bit." agreed Harry. "But we knew the risks."

"Yeah but if it wasn't for that goddam cuckoo, we could've nailed Hofton and his mob weeks ago!" pointed out Dempsey.

"It won't be easy flushing him out." warned Freddy. "But you know that. If I can think of anything I'll let you know."

"Okay thanks, Daddy." replied Harry. "Now we must be going. I'll call you in a couple of days. Be good."

They motored back to London and Harry's home, unpacked and finally sat down next to each other on the big comfortable sofa with a drink each.

"Well angel, tomorrows another day."

The cuckoo had learned of Jimmy Hoftons arrest.

Tomorrow would be another day for him too and perhaps, the beginning of the end.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17.**

When Dempsey woke up the next morning and looked in the mirror, he groaned.

"Harry!?" he called.

"Yes!" she replied from their en-suite bathroom. "What!?"

"Come look!"

Her head appeared round the door.

"Oh dear." she said, unable not to giggle. "You look just like Chi Chi the giant panda!"

During the night, Dempsey's eyes had finally responded to Jimmy Hoftons vicious kick to his nose and were now surrounded by thick black bruises. With a badly swollen lip too, he looked as though he'd gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson or, if you were Harry, a giant panda.

Arriving later at SI-10, the entire team were in the office and stared open mouthed at him when they both walked in.

"Prince Philip been knocking you about, Dempsey?" chuckled Jamie.

"He's not been with Prince Philip." said Harry. "Neither have I for that matter."

"Where have you been then?" asked Josh. "We all thought you were on Royal duty in Canada."

"Spain." replied Dempsey. "There was no Royal duty."

"Spain?" asked Terry. "What were you doing in Spain?"

"Nabbing Jimmy Hofton." said Harry. "And his ring of child traffickers."

"What? Jimmy Hofton the vice baron?" asked Chris. "Child trafficking?"

"Yeah." replied Dempsey. "Him and five others, well six actually. Bringing young black girls in from North Africa, then auctioning them to the highest bidder. Christ knows what becomes of 'em after that but whatever it is, it don't bear thinkin' 'bout."

"How'd you get onto him?" asked Steve.

Harry shot him a glance. "What's it to you, Steve?"

"Hey Makepeace!" butted in Andy. "He's curious, we all are."

"Harry and I stumbled into it." explained Dempsey. "We got on to it through the late Sir Marcus Battersby-Thorpe."

"Who's he?" asked Sam.

"He's nobody." replied Harry.

"So you took these fellas on in Spain all by yourselves?" asked Steve.

"No, we had a team together." replied Dempsey.

"A team? I thought we were a team." said Jamie. "Why didn't you involve us?"

Dempsey was about to answer that by telling them the truth when Spikings and Chas walked in, Spikings with his arm in his sling and Chas with similar black eyes to Dempsey, thanks to Eddie's headbutt to the bridge of his nose.

The SI-10 team were equally as surprised to see the two of them, as they had been on catching first sight of Dempsey.

"Morning everybody." said Spikings. "Dempsey, Makepeace, in my office, you too Chas."

"Coffee sir?" asked Harry, knowing the answer anyway.

"Yes please Sergeant." replied Spikings, as he disappeared through his office door.

Dempsey took up his usual stance when in Spikings's office, leaning against the wall, hands in pockets, while Harry sat down in one of the chairs fronting Spikings' desk and placed his coffee in front of him. Chas stood by the window.

"I presume you've been talking to the lads out there." remarked Spikings. "How much do they know?"

"That we haven''t been on any Royal duties, for starters." replied Dempsey.

"Do they now know where you have been?" asked Spikings. "And why?"

"Yes they do, sir." answered Harry. "Both."

"Was that wise?" asked Spikings.

"Chief, I don't see what goddam difference it makes now!" replied Dempsey. "I think we oughta come clean with 'em all."

"What do you think Sergeant?"

"I agree with Dempsey, sir." replied Harry. "We should tell them everything. If the cuckoo _is_ one of them, _he_ knows _we_ know he exists, we just don't know which one. But by bringing it into the open it will put huge pressure on him."

"Harry's right, sir." said Chas. "Hofton's behind bars and those that aren't dead have been caught too. What's important now, is the team will want to know who the traitor is amongst them. They all know something's up anyway, but no-one's had the balls to say anything yet. I think now's the time."

Spikings looked at all three of them and nodded.

"Okay, let's bring it out into the open." he said, standing up and pointing to the door.

The three of them followed him out, everybody looking over as they walked into the main office.

"Can I have your attention, please." said Spikings, looking at each of his team in turn. "I'll get straight to the point. We suspect that one of you is a traitor, a mole, a cuckoo in this nest."

Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at Spikings.

"The case involving Jimmy Hofton, that Dempsey and Makepeace have been working on, has been compromised regularly by someone in this office." he continued. "And that someone has been in Jimmy Hofton's pocket feeding him classified information. It's why Hofton has avoided detection. So whoever it is, I suggest you come clean. Hofton and his gang have been successfully apprehended and he's facing a long prison sentence, so whatever he might have had over you, is now null and void."

You could have heard a pin drop. Everyone looked at everyone else and silence reigned.

"Listen fellas." said Dempsey, all eyes swinging to him. "Ever since I joined this outfit, I've always reckoned on you bein' a great bunch of guys. But one of you is a schmuck 'an that don't sit nice where I come from. If one of you don't come clean right now, this minute, God help you when I find out who ya are!"

Silence still reigned. Harry tried a different tack.

"Boys, Jimmy Hofton is a particularly nasty bit of work." she said, looking around at all the faces staring at her. "And if he found some weakness in you, he would have exploited it to the full. I've always found you strong and dependable, so it must be some pretty horrific hold he's had over you for one of you to succumb to his threats. Whatever it is, please admit it now and get it over with."

Nobody spoke up.

Spikings sighed. "Okay, have it your own way." he said. "You've had your chance. When I find out who's betrayed this team, I'll throw the bloody book at you!"

Clearly annoyed and disappointed, he marched back into his office and slammed the door, the rest in the room beginning to mutter amongst themselves. Harry sat at her desk, Dempsey in front of her and, leaning back, stuck his feet up on his desk.

"Notice anythin'?" he asked quietly.

Harry shook her head. "No. You?"

"Nah."

If the atmosphere in the office had been one of puzzlement over the last few weeks, given the rare appearance of Harry and Dempsey in the office and Chas having to deflect questions about their whereabouts, now it had become tense, everyone regarding everyone else with suspicion.

Dempsey knocked on Spikings's door.

"Yes!?" came the expected response. Dempsey went in.

"Chief." he said. "Mind if Makepeace an' I grill Hofton? See if we can drag anythin' outta him 'bout the cuckoo?"

"You can try, Lieutenant." replied Spikings. " But I don't think you'll get anywhere. And don't use the heavy hand, Dempsey. I don't want to give that low life _any _excuse whatsoever. He'll use anything against us when he goes for trial. Is that clear?"

"Ok Chief, you got it." replied Dempsey and, walking back to his desk, looked at Harry and nodded to the door.

Outside, Harry asked. "What?"

"Fancy a word with Hofton?"

She nodded as they made their way down to the SI-10 cells located in the building's basement.

Once in his cell, he burst into laughter when he saw the state of Dempsey's face.

"My my, don't you look 'ansome!"

Harry knew instantly that Dempsey was in danger of losing it already and put a restraining hand on his arm.

"Don't!" she warned.

He took three deep breaths, leaned against the cell wall and got to the point immediately.

"Who's ya contact, Hofton?"

"Contact? What contact?"

"Don't play the innocent assole with me." scowled Dempsey, his eyes hard as nails. "We _know_ you've got to one of our guys. Who is it?"

"I dunno what you're talkin' 'bout, son. Been drinkin' a lotta that Jack Daniels crap to ease the pain in yer face, have yer." he chuckled.

"He can't protect you now, you know." remarked Harry. "He knows it's only a matter of time before we find him."

"Well yer ain't gettin' my 'elp sweet'eart!" snarled Hofton, then looking at Dempsey and nodding in Harry's direction.

"Bangin' 'er are yer?!" he said, grinning. "Can I watch?"

Dempsey began to move.

"Dempsey!" shouted Harry, leaping in front of him. "No! He's not worth the effort! Come on! Let him rot."

She grabbed his arm and forcibly marched him out of the cell, trying to ignore the sound of Hofton's sarcastic laughter. "Give 'er one for me son!" he shouted after them.

When they arrived back in the office, Harry found a folded note lying on her desk.

She flipped it open.

_'Search Hofton's house. Young girl there'_

She handed it to Dempsey, who immediately looked around the office.

"Anyone see who put this note on Harry's desk?" he said, waving it in the air and watching for the reactions. He was met with blank expressions.

Shaking his head, he and Harry, followed by Chas, marched into Spikings's office without knocking.

Spikings was on the telephone and looked at them angrily, slamming it down in mid sentence. Before he let rip at them, Dempsey thrust the note under his nose. He looked back up at them. "Get over there, now! I'll get a squad together with equipment to break in."

They swiftly made their way to the garage, jumping into Dempseys Mercedes, Chas and Spikings following five minutes later, and set off for The Bishops Avenue in Hampstead.

After they'd all gone, the SI-10 team all began murmuring to each other.

"Come on." Josh said. "Who wrote that note?"

"Not me." said Terry. "If a villain tried to blackmail me I'd tell Spikings. And he'd get the rest of us onto it."

"Huh." responded Steve. "Easy for you to say!"

"Yeah? Steve?" asked Jamie. "Why's that then?"

"Well, it'd depend on what the villain had got on you, wouldn't it?" replied Steve.

"I'm with Terry." said Andy. "I'd tell Spikings too."

"Yeah and me." responded Sam. "Come on, we're a crack team. We work together. I'd own up straight away that I'd been approached. Best way."

"Well I'm with Steve." piped up Chris. "I'd be scared stiff to admit anything."

"Anyone know what was on that note?" asked Steve.

Everyone shook their heads, quietened down and got back to their work.

Arriving first and waiting in frustration for the others to arrive, Dempsey and Harry stood back as the experts set about the mansion gates, forcing them open after working on the mechanism for a few minutes.

Getting through the front door wasn't difficult, a few attempts with the battering ram soon dispensed with it, and then they were in, searching the entire house from top to bottom and finding nothing.

Opening a back door, Dempsey and Harry walked into the garden which sloped gently down to a pool, its surface covered in some floating debris. They inspected the accompanying pool house, breaking through the door and discovering nothing but the usual equipment.

But turning round to re-enter the house, Dempsey stopped and looked at it, momentarily puzzled. Harry frowned at him.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"Take a look at the house, angel." he said. "Do you see anything strange."

She looked at it with him, but nothing struck her as different.

"No I don't." she replied.

"Yeah?" said Dempsey. "Look again. You see where we walked outta the door into the garden? Well the ground kinda slopes away. Now, if you look at the door, then the windows, there's..."

"Good God, Dempsey!" shouted Harry. "You're right! There's a basement or maybe even another floor, below ground level!"

They rushed inside and, finding their bearings, went to the part of the house that corresponded to their previous location outside. Baffled, they couldn't find any entry to what was clearly another room below them.

Dempsey began tapping the walls for signs of hollowness which might indicate a hidden door, but drew a blank. Then Harry, using her logic, looked hard at the floor, noticing that it wasn't covered by a fitted carpet but a vast rug. She picked up a corner and threw it back.

A trapdoor stared them in the face.

"Dempsey look!"

He bent down, took hold of a brass coloured ring and pulled upwards, the lid opening and exposing a flight of steps.

Looking at the walls around them he told Harry to try the switches.

After nothing happening, a light suddenly shone, illuminating a stairway below them. Cautiously walking down, a familiar smell began to invade their nostrils.

"Oh no." said Harry quietly, the dread beginning to take hold in her stomach.

At the bottom of the stairs, the room opened up in front of them, the stench getting worse.

They knew what they'd find before they found it.

In the next room, lying on the floor and completely naked was a young black girl. She'd been dead for about twenty-four hours.

"You know who that is, don't you." said Dempsey. Harry looked closer.

"Oh my God!" she said. "It's the girl from Stringfellows. The one we saw with Hofton and Sir Marcus. She must have been in this room when the Vice squad searched here."

She broke down in tears then, Dempsey holding her close, steering her gently back up the staircase and out to the car.

"Stay here, princess." he whispered. "I'll be back in a minute."

Dempsey went to find Spikings and told him what they'd discovered, explaining that Harry was overcome and he was taking her out of it.

Spikings understood, remarking. "This really isn't her kind of crime, is it."

"No." replied Dempsey. "It certainly ain't!"

He returned to the car and drove straight home, settling Harry into a comfortable chair and pouring her a brandy.

"We've been here before." he said, trying to be cheerful, remembering the two occasions already where brandy had come to the rescue, but receiving no response.

He put his arm around her, she automatically leaning into him, the strong drink working its magic and, in tandem with his closeness, calming her.

Dempsey took the screwed up note out of his pocket with his free hand and laid it on the table in front of them, maybe an unconscious need to distance himself from it.

Harry picked it up and read it again, this time without haste.

She noticed something which pulled her instantly out of her depression.

"Dempsey look!" she said, pointing to the note, he peering at it. "The 's' of 'house' is back to front."

"So?"

"Don't you see!?" she said, excitedley. "Whoever wrote this is partially dyslexic."

"Yeah, so?"

"Good grief Dempsey, for a street wise New Yorker you can't half be slow at times!" said Harry, exasperated with him. "If we can get the guys at SI-10 to write something down with an 's' in it, we'll know who wrote this note!"

"Hey yeah, you got somethin' there, princess." he replied and kissed her.

Harry now fortified, they drove back to SI-10, Dempsey itching to get his hands on Jimmy Hofton and Harry talking him out of it with her usual sensible logic, explaining that now Hofton could go away for life.

Dempsey had already decided that if that wish came true, he'd ensure every screw and every inmate in the prison knew what Hofton was.

The rest of his worthless life would be a living hell.

Spikings and Chas were still not back, so they went down to the canteen and sat with a couple of cups of coffee, thinking about how to expose the cuckoo using the knowledge that some words with an 's' in it would be spelt with the letter backwards.

"I've got it!" said Dempsey suddenly and told Harry, who nodded vigorously.

They returned to the office, noting that Spikings was back and knocked on his door.

"Come!" he shouted, then, looking at Harry asked. "Are you okay?"

"Yes sir, thanks." she replied. "She's the same girl we saw in Stringfellows."

"Barney Johnson on Vice won't be pleased he missed her. She was under his nose all along. We'll have the results of the post mortem on the little girl, but it looks as though she died as a result of malnutrition. There were also numerous needle marks on her arm, so she could have been forcefully and regularly drugged. That could also have played a part in her death."

Harry felt the tears rising again but swallowed them down hard.

"Chief. Take another look at this note." said Dempsey, handing it to him once again. "Look very carefully. See anythin' unusual?"

Spikings did as they asked, but looked up at them quizzically.

"Sir, look at the 's' of 'house'" said Harry.

"Oh God, yes." he said. "How on earth did I miss that."

"Chief, whoever wrote that note's gotta be the cuckoo!" said Dempsey. "Now, when they were recruited they must've filled in an application form or somethin' similar, wouldn't they?"

Spikings was on to it immediately and, pushing back his chair, stood up and went to a bank of filing cabinets, opening up the middle draw and bringing out a thick wad of buff coloured folders.

Handing one to each to them, they began trawling through all the paperwork. There may have only been seven operatives to check, but the selection process generated an awful lot of paper.

It was the very last one that solved the mystery.

"Here!" said Harry. "Him!?" The others looked.

Dempsey was about to unleash his anger when Spikings stopped him.

"Dempsey!" growled Spikings. "I'll handle this."

They went back into the office, everyone looking up at them again.

"Attention everyone!" said Spikings. "We've just come from Jimmy Hoftons house in Hampstead and I'm sorry to have to tell you that another little black girl has been found dead there."

He waited for a reaction. None came.

"Okay." he continued. "We found the girl via this note left on Makepeace's desk. One of you wrote it and we know who."

"How?" asked Chris.

"Because one of you is slightly dyslexic." replied Spikings. "And he's written an 's' back to front. We've cross checked with our records and one of you has written the same backward 's' on their appication form. Haven't you - Steve!"

All eyes swung to Steve, who'd gone as white as a sheet.

In one fast movement, he drew a revolver from his jeans and pointed it at Spikings.

"If anybody moves I'll kill him." he said, his eyes wild with fear.

"Why did you point us to the girl?" asked Harry, as cool as cucumber.

"She was my neice!"

"Your neice!?" exclaimed Dempsey. "But she's black, you're whiter than white!"

"She was my sisters girl. My sister was raped by a negro as black as night and Jenny was the result. His genes must have been dominant. My sister's Catholic and wouldn't have an abortion."

"So how did Hofton get onto it?" asked Chas.

"One of his hoods grabbed her as she was walking home from school." explained Steve. "And when she told him I worked for SI-10 he was onto me, threatening to kill her unless I co-operated."

For all the trouble he'd caused, Harry's heart still went out to him. What a dreadful dilemma to be faced with. But at the end of the day, when all's said and done, his silence had delivered many similar young girls to a fate worse than death and with that thought in her mind, Harry steeled herself.

"But why didn't you speak up, Steve?" she asked. "You know, surely, we'd have got together and found her."

"Yeah?" answered Steve. "Well I couldn't risk it."

"Didn't your sister call the police when her daughter went missing?" asked Josh.

"She called me first and I told her I'd sort it." replied Steve. "I've been stalling her ever since."

"Jesus Christ!" said Dempsey. "You dumb piece of shit!"

Harry put a restraining hand on his arm.

"Killing me will just make it all worse for you, lad." said Spikings. "How on earth do you think you'll get away with it with all these witnesses, eh?"

Harry began walking slowly towards Steve.

"Stay back Makepeace!" he threatened. "I'll kill you, so help me I will."

"Steve listen." said Harry. "I've sobbed my heart out for all those poor young black girls that Jimmy Hofton had a liking for and the dreadful life he's committed them to. And the impossible position he's put you in must have been devastating for you. But Jenny is gone and the best thing for her would be for you to testify in court at his trial. It won't bring her back and it won't exonerate you completely, but you'll make certain he goes away for life. And perhaps, the judge will take that into consideration when your hearing comes up, together with the unbelievable pressure you've been put under. You know you can't escape what you've done, but you can make something good come out of all the bad. I can't speak for everyone, but I'd be willing to give you a character reference."

It was enough.

Steve dropped the gun and broke down, Harry walking up and holding him, the others open mouthed at how she'd handled that, Dempsey more proud of her than ever before.

As it turned out, Jimmy Hofton was jailed for life and Steve was given a two year sentence, his testimony sealing Hoftons fate. He'd probably be out after fifteen or sixteen months with good behaviour.

He was dismissed from the team, even though most of them joined Harry in giving him a character reference.

Dempsey declined. His principles wouldn't allow it. Harry understood.

Walking out of the court together when it was all over he turned to her and said.

"I dunno princess, sometimes I wonder if it'd be better if we were plain Mr and Mrs Smith, living at number eleven, Acacia Avenue, with two point four kids, a mortgage, a dog, a cat and a bunch of bills to pay every month!"

She stopped and looked at him, a certain gleam in her eye.

"Was that a proposal, Mr Dempsey?" she asked.

Dempsey looked at her and he knew.

"I guess it was, Harry." he said softly.

"Then the answer's yes." she said.

**The End**


End file.
